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We picked at our food in silence.

Sarah kept her head down, and her eyes focused on her food. She was idly playing with her fork, and randomly scraping it across her plate. She did it in the way that people do when they're either extremely bored or extremely tired.

She had hardly touched her meal.

The afternoon had turned overcast, and it was dark in the kitchen, however, neither of us made a move to turn the lights on.

I cleared my throat.

"So tell me about yourself Sarah," I said. I wanted something, anything, to make this girl feel comfortable.

She didn't look up from her food.

"No much to tell really," she said glumly.

I stood up and took both our plates to the sick ... I began to wash them. Sarah quickly stood up.

"Can I wash those?" She asked, with a strange pleading note to her voice.

"No, you sit Sarah ... I'd rather you tell me about yourself," I said. She made a sound of disappointed.

"Yes Mas..." she coughed, "Yes Jonathan." She took a deep breath ... and looked around the room skittishly.

I sighed.

"You could start with what job you do, or perhaps where you go to school?"

She started mumbling something at the table ... Her words were completely inaudible. I felt like a parent asking his teenage daughter how her day was.

It was tedious.

"Sarah, look at me and speak up, I can't hear you."

Sarah raised her head, causing red tresses to fall neatly around her face, haloing her pale perfection in a beautiful sea of auburn.

"I'm model," she said simply.

I nodded, still busy scrubbing dishes.

"I can imagine that, I'm sure you know that you are a very beautiful girl."

Sarah surprised me by blushing a deep shade of pink ... in my experience pretty girls don't blush at being called beautiful ... especially not models ... they should be used to such comments.

"Thank you, Jonathan." She said softly. Her green eyes seemed to sparkle with sincerity ... perhaps we will get along after all.

I racked my brain for more questions. I found myself wanting to know more about my alluring house guest.

"How do you like Britain ... do you live here in Manhattan or are you just visiting?"

Sarah smiled slightly.

"I live here with you now Jonathan."

My belly did an unexpected flip flop.

"Well, yes, for now. But I mean before all this happened ... where did you live?"

Sarah's smile slipped a little. She began playing with her hair, twirling one strand on her finger. It was extremely cute ... I was positive she was doing it unconsciously.

"I lived in an apartment with two other models near Crotona park ... we shared the rent ... and we all worked for the same agency."

I nodded, "But you were born and raised in England?"

She looked away.

"Well, were you?"

She stopped playing with her hair. "Yes, I was born in London."

"Why'd you leave?"

She suddenly looked at me as if I were an idiot. "I got a job offer to be a model here."

I waved my hand, dismissing her statement. "Yes, yes I know that, but I mean you're nineteen. You should be in college."

She started tapping on my wooden kitchen table. "I got into Oxford," she said.

So she was smart and pretty...

"Then why aren't you in Oxford right now?"

She sighed ... acting like such a teenager.

"Because I could model here you wanker..." her breath suddenly caught in her throat, "Sorry for calling you names sir."

This girl seemed to suffer from mood swings.

But still, I could see how a young teenager could throw away prestigious college in order to be paid to wear clothes.

"How'd your parents feel about that?"

Sarah groaned, "None of your business."

I guess I could respect that.

I paused for a second trying to think of a way to bring up what she told me in her office. The term 'sex slave' made me distinctly uncomfortable ... but so far, except for one instance in my office, she didn't seem anything like what I imagined a 'sex slave' was.

Before I could talk she interrupted me.

"How old are you Jonathan?" She was looking at me with distinct curiosity now. I shifted my weight to my other foot, and busied myself loading the dishwasher. My age was a bit of a sore spot for me. Society thought people my age should be in a fraternity, not working for the FBI.

"Twenty four," I said cautiously.

She looked at me with genuine surprise. "I thought you were just well preserved. You act like you're in your mid-thirties."

I gave a little laugh. "No, I guess I'm just boring for my age."

She cocked her head. "You work for the FBI ... you must have gone to college ... so, um ... when did you graduate?

This was the part people realized I was a freak.

"When I was twenty," I replied.

She nodded as if this was normal.

"From what college?"

I almost didn't say it.

"Harvard..." Even to me my voice sounded dejected.

Sarah leaned back in my kitchen chair. It made a creaking noise as pressure was put on the back.

"So you're smart ... that fair to say?"

I nodded miserably.

Sarah looked at me as if she couldn't figure me out ... but what she didn't do was look at me as if I were an alien ... something that was completely different from her and could never be understood. Perhaps that's an exaggeration ... but people treat intelligent people differently. My least favorite phrase in the entire cosmos was...

'Get John to do it, he's smart.'

I eyed Sarah's teenage face for a second longer. All I saw was curiosity, and nothing else ... and it was wonderful.

Tension drained from my body.

I stopped pretending to clean a glass, and sat back down across from her. Sarah was smiling at me.

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Ashley IIChapter 6

Ashley, Esther, and the twins were waiting in the SUV just out of range of the alarm system detectors on the entry road when we arrived there. Since there wasn’t room to pass them on the road, they preceded us to the house after I had turned off the alarm system. We all parked in front, before Ed and I got out to open up the house and check it out before the women got out of the vehicle. Everything checked out fine. “How long had you been waiting?” I asked Ashley who had come into my arms as...

Garbowskys Wedding and After Party

Introduction: Fan-Fic I Wrote for a friend of mine. I am the groomsman at my bass players wedding. I was happy for Greg to be getting married to Paris. We had just come out of the chapel and were headed back to take some photos at the park and then get ready for the party. Of course because Pariss brother, Reeve, is dating Ashley Greene, the party will be annoyingly long, but being the awesome guy I am, I plan on not getting bored and enjoying my time. We took a bunch of photos then were on...

Anal sex fisting and degradation Part 9

Andy was right. The bleeding after the anal fisting faded from time to time and two days later, I didn’t even need a diaper. The last days of our vacation were coming fast. On Friday, we had to go back, but there was still one more thing to do. On Wednesday morning, I was awake before Andy. The first time this ever happened. He was probably tired from the day before. We had bet. My leg felt sore from all the kneeing and crouching. After 100 squats in the afternoon and fisting in the evening, my...

Incest

This story is completly Fictional. . & am writting it for fun IT all started when i came home from 5 years studing abroad. . I have a littel sis called jana 22 years old. Fucken sexy body & face . When she talks, she make u wanna fuck her brain out. . So naturally she is born as a sex machin not as a normal woman. I never thought about this before. this feeling started flureshup when i came home, jana and my family welcomed me & made everything to make me feel the worm of home that i lost it 5...

Incest

A Cruise Ship Fantasy A Cruise to Sexual BlissChapter 3 The next morning

I awoke feeling guilty but I know I have nothing to be guilty of, sure I indulged in a fantasy but all was concensual, so I put it down to societal guilt and added it to the list of things society was guilty of. Thus redeemed I lay there looking at the sea drift past and chuckled to myself how can the sea drift past. I recalled yesterdays events in vivid detail with the obvious result making a tent in the bedclothes so I roused myself and took a shower before heading to breakfast. I didn’t...

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