Ronald Poindexter. He was the principal at the high school I was then attending. His slapping me was highly illegal. I could have had his job if I'd r...ported him to the school board. I could have sued him for everything he had, if I'd been so inclined. I didn't report him though, and didn't file suit against him either. Valerie Poindexter, his daughter, was one of my girls, my sometimes lover, the girl I'd just learned was supposedly carrying my unborn child.Not an ideal way to find out you. She’d try, but it was hopeless. Words had never been her domain. Powder. Flake. Two more. That made twelve. Over half way there and each one a struggle, each word seeming obvious in retrospect. With sigh she let her hand drift down, her fingertips sliding over her taut tummy, brushing over the smoothness where golden down had once decorated her mons veneris, swallowing the primal moan that seemed to rise from somewhere deep inside of her as she toyed with her plump clitoris, her lips curving. More

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