“You heard me.” He crawled over to her and pushed her legs apart, and then knelt between them. “No way, Jan,” she said stonily. “I don’... want you to touch me. I’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, but I don’t want your filthy hands on me.” Jan shook his head with a sigh. “See, you had my sympathy right up until the word ‘filthy’,” he said. He reached out and put his hands around her slim waist. Laura cringed and struggled, and her tits jiggled in front of his face again. “Please. I'm really flattered that you seem to like reading about the rather ordinary events in my simple little life. I hope you'll understand that I've been trying to study for my final examinations, and simultaneously trying to stifle (usually unsuccessfully) these awful desires inside me. I guess I've missed writing the diary. You see, it acts as a kind of confessional for me. I don't go to confession any more, and writing my diary acts as a way of unburdening myself of my concerns. When I used to. More

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