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Still no answer. He was staring at the TV as if mesmerized."Doug!" she said, louder still, and she waved her hand in front of his face.He looked over then, but of course Hub had drawn his hand back by then and there was nothing for Doug to catch him at."Yeah?" Doug asked. "What is it, honey?" Nothing now," she muttered, feeling irritated and frustrated.No sooner had Doug turned back to the movie than she felt Hub's hand dart sneakily back under her dress to take up where it had left off only a moment or so earlier. Her plan didn't appear to be working so well, but with Hub bold enough to continue, she decided to try again. This time she intended to poke Doug with her elbow so she wouldn't alert Hub. Hub. What gall the man had. Surely he knew, after the way she'd called to Doug, that she was setting a trap for him. And yet here the horny devil was, with his hand stuck up under her dress again.He was really after her now, too. His hand moved constantly, stroking and caressing her. When he ushers her through the door, his hand finds her lower back and she feels his touch radiate throughout her body. All the girls working behind the counter smile at him. Abby’s dad is tall, dark and handsome, and he’s all hers, smugness seeps into her features.Just in time for the previews, they sneak up the stairs of the dark room, Mat leading the way to the empty back row. Apparently, this movie has been out a while, as the theater isn’t even half full.Sitting in the darkness, Abby has no idea this is one of her dad’s lessons. He wanted her the moment he got home too but decided he’d rather show her a new level of lewdness. She’s been fairly patient. She deserves it. Thirty minutes into the movie, Mat glances at her. Her big blue eyes are focused on the screen. He puts his mouth by her ear.“Unbutton your pants,” he says, and her head snaps his direction. He grins at her, and she smiles back, suddenly understanding. Abby quickly does as he tells her, panties already wet from.
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First, she needed to fetch food from the unfamiliar waters. Second, she had to make sure that neither she nor her possessions slipped off the raft into the encircling sea, which she did by tying her ankles by rope to the raft’s slatted logs and branches. She similarly secured the deer-hide sack in which she stored her fishing tools and sentimental souvenirs. The task of finding food became no less difficult as each day passed and was succeeded by another. And then, having survived on the raw carcasses of the small fish she’d caught in her net (the only fishing tool she had of any actual use in these rough waters), that day was followed by yet another. And there was still no sign of a shore or a beach or anywhere else towards which she should steer the raft. Glade became ever more feeble and fatigued from having to survive on a small catch of fish and no fresh water. The days stretched ahead with nothing for her to do but scan the horizon for the elusive sign of land. She would dip.

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