He should take the gun, the one in the nightstand drawer, an ugly little Glock 22, and put it in his mouth and—You’re being ridiculous, Heather would tell him. He fell on top of her, wrapped the waist of the panties around her throat so that the crotch stretched across her nose and mouth. Indian sex “I…um…” he had forgotten. Roy’s heart sank. Roy. “Now,” he said. “It’s. “No…Please…stop. “Stupid cunt,” he spat. “I kind of wanted to hit up the Food Court for lunch. “COME BACK HERE YOU SLUT!”
Ari screamed and raised the gun, aimed the barrel directly at her father’s chest. Y—yeah. Sweat beaded down his forehead, rode his lashes into his eyes. After several long seconds, he pulled his face from hers. “It’s…” he said, lifting his eyes to meet hers in the dressing room mirror. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, following the thrusting shaft of her father’s penis as it crossed her vision. “I kind of wanted to hit up the Food Court for lunch. He chased his daughter down the hall. When he came, it was to his daughter’s lips, glossed this time in a mix of cum and her own blood.
