I reminded myself that the essay was set the summer before last, and that could account for her being so skilled at deepthroating. I picked up the essay, reading it again. “Yeppers. So, I did my best to put the explicit narrative–one in which a neighbor takes pictures of a girl sunbathing topless, then blackmails her into giving head before finally forcing her to deepthroat–out of my mind. “Sorry,” the girl said, using her fingers to clean her face, then licking them clean. “Daddy says I have the best pussy around,” she said, looking back at me over her shoulder. With some effort, I succeeded. “No,” she said, turning to face me. “No,” she said, turning to face me. The expert technique of her young mouth as she sucked up and down my shaft drove almost all conscious thought to the background, and what little was left did its best to reconcile her new admission with the essay. “Yeah,” I grunted, reduced to primitive, guttural expression. Emily had already shed her sweater and knelt on the floor, a pink bra revealing as much creamy white cleavage as it
