The men didn’t matter. He had a good idea who all five were. They were all probably married. Turner was the type to cover his ass if he could, a mar...ied man would never squawk. Martin assumed Cheryl had never left Turner’s, that he’d been keeping her, probably against her will, using the pictures as blackmail, to keep her under wraps. He bet he’d put Cheryl in there the first afternoon and deliberately leave her all five days and nights. That was the kind of crass bastard his one time best. I squeezed their small supple roundness with matching smooth strokes. Molly’s skin was so soft and smooth as I massaged in circles over her small mounds. Even the skin of her hard nipples on pink puffs was just as delicate. My daughter, with her pale skin, looked and felt like a marshmallow.Molly covered my hands with hers as I felt her small protuberances that made her a young woman. Her gentle hands felt wonderful on my strong ones that caressed only a part of her sexuality. I could tell that. More

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