He did weed, too, but not as much. He was actually easier to deal with when stoned. I liked him stoned better, though once I turned eighteen, he would...get fresh with me at times when high or drunk, in fact.“He never fucked me, though. Not because he didn’t want me, but because I refused to let him into my panties. I didn’t want to be involved, romantically or sexually, with a wife-beating drunk. I was skilled at distracting him until he lost interest, every single time. Ironically, I got with. I saw Miranda's melons come out yet again. "No," I protested, pointing at her. "Beam your ass back in there, Miranda! Do not do it, just don't!"She began walking rather quickly towards me. "Make me!"I bit my bottom lip and just went into the stairway area. I didn't say a word, but I thought of every single mean word imaginable. My eyes were wide open, and I moved as quickly as I could without risking tripping down the stairs.I made it down six floors as my heart just continued to pump harder. More

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