My fingers were slippery and I was pinching it between two knuckles, hard. It felt amazing when my clit was squeezed hard, but it was especially good ...hen it sort of burst through. I did it again and again. Then the door to our bedroom slowly opened.Although it was open only a few inches, I could tell it was my son outside. He knew what I would be doing. He wanted to see if I was really masturbating, and if his father was really asleep. He paused for what seemed like a long time, listening. I. "I wrote you up," the little shit grinned. "Not just for that shit you pulled yesterday, neither. I've been writing you up for weeks, every time you've been late or left early or did a piss-poor job. Assaulting me was the final straw—even your fucking union won't stand behind that. You're out."George rubbed his jaw. He was seeing red but there was nothing he could do about it. Fact was he'd completely forgotten about pushing his supervisor to the ground the day before—he'd been blind with rage. More

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