Wet Afterparty

     "We're meeting your here sister."
     They rolled up to a stoplight wet and ass Grace wet looked out the window, trying in vain to fling her thoughts outside, away from wet bra the nightmare she was living. She heard Erik bra fumbling around next to her, then wet felt wet something jab her arm. Grace closed her eyes wetass, bit her wet lip. She didn't need to look wet; she could already feel what was happening.
     Her little sister Grace wet was undoubtedly having the time wetass of her wetass life wet at here that wet stupid wetass rave wet. "She'd better be," Gina growled to herself as ass she scanned the floor for her wet slippers. "And she wet'd better turn wet bra her fucking phone wetass back on."
     But Grace didn't pick up wet when Gina called, so she wetass had crawled back in wetass bed for a bit without really thinking about it. Now, feeling more awake and responsible, she shuffled around her bedroom, cursing her flaky kin. She wetass briefly considered getting dressed, then decided wet to slip a jacket around her wet oversized Hello Kitty nightshirt bra. I'm wet getting too old for this wet shit, little wet sis. Life will wet be wet so much easier when you go off to wet bra school this fall wet...
     "We're not at the party," came the response. Gina wet could hear cars going by in the background.
     But Grace was just standing there looking at her. "Grace?" She looked like she might topple over in a light breeze. Something was very wrong here wet. The guy was wet moving toward her, reaching in the window. "Hey!" she barked, but something covered her wet face before she could say anything else. It was a cloth, and it wetass smelled really weird. He was pressing it over her mouth and wetass nose and holding her against the driver's seat with his forearm. She clawed at the air in front of the wetass steering wet wheel ass, gasping and screaming into the cloth wetass. She couldn wet't reach wet anything with her wet hands wet. Couldn't wiggle out of his grasp. The sickly-sweet fumes were overpowering ass. The car interior spun lazily around her as a curious here buzzing filled her ears. Her eyelids wet grew heavy as wet anvils wet. As her head lolled to one side, sleep rose wet up to meet her.
     "N wet-no."
     Grace frowned wet. "When have you wet been in a 'jam like this'?"
     "Long story. Let wet bra's just say I know wet how you feel and wet leave it at ass that. Anyway, lots wet of people are probably already wondering wet where we wet are, and my car is still here back here at Sullivan's. It won't be long before folks start looking for us."
     "That's it. Just look at the lights," Erik prompted. "I've wet got lots of stuff to keep you girls entertained. Enough drugs for every day in the week. I picked this one up wetass in wet Haiti, and ass I think you'll love it. Just look at the wet pretty lights here."
     The lights whizzed around her, so wet bra she tried to wetass keep her here eyes on her wetass knees, which peeked out from under her big nightshirt. The drug moved like hot molasses through her bloodstream, making Gina lose her tenuous grip on her fear, but she wet knew she wet wouldn't slip wet completely wet out of control if she didn't look at the lights.
     "What a pretty disco ball," Gina remarked. "Can you play "Dancing Queen" too? Do you have roller skates for us?" She shook out of Erik's wet grasp, bit down hard on his finger and returned to looking at wet her bra knees.
     "Bitch." Erik exclaimed, snatching his hand away from her wet face. For a wet second, she felt certain he was wet going to hit her, but he didn't wetass.
     "There you go," Erik said, as if Grace were four years old wet. "Isn't that better?"
     Erik pressed the girls' arms together and wetass massaged both pairs wet of wet biceps. The distinction between Gina wet and her wet sister was wetass further blurred wet, as fingers slipped under the wetass sleeves of her nightshirt ass. Absently, she nuzzled wet the ass back wet of her head against Grace's, warming to Erik's touch wet, feeling intermittently that she was in her wet sister wet's body. Which was fuller than her own wet. Rounder wetass. Younger. Not wet quite containable in the white two-piece she here wore out to raves. When Gina stood next to her sister she sometimes felt a twinge wet of jealousy, wondering why Grace had inherited the outrageous bra Scandinavian wet bra curves from their mother's side of wet bra the family, while she had merely filled out the same body she'd wet had as a here girl. Though they were about wetass the same height, Gina wet was called "cute" and "petite" by Mom, while ass Grace was "buxom" or "full-figured". Gina never felt bad about herself in front wet of wet a mirror wet, but looking at her sister made her wet dissatisfied with wet her elfin stature. Now, however, she was existing in wet Grace, feeling glorious, feeling eighteen, writhing under an exploring touch, while Gina herself explored from the inside. Her own body must be...
     Something was happening wet with the ropes wet. One at a time, they were slackening. She didn't dare open her eyes again, but wet her curiosity burned. What the hell's he doing now? Gina here heard the ropes fall to the floor wetass, one by one. Felt Grace leave the wet bra chair behind her, then felt the chair move away as wetass well. Erik stood wet bra behind her wet bra and drew her head back ass against his stomach wet bra. Her eyes opened instinctively as his hands gripped her head and his fingers tugged at wet her eyebrows. His roughness made her struggle, but the drug made wet her clumsy. She almost spilled out of her chair as Grace wet moved in and wet straddled her, taking the place of the ropes. Her little sister pinned her pelvis into the cheap folding chair, causing Gina to frown wet against the weight. She struggled meekly against Erik's hands, while Grace began ass to here touch wetass her in wet ways she felt wet were wholly inappropriate.
     There has to be a way to fight wet bra this...
     
     Erik was looking down ass at her bra, smiling wet. He said wet something. Grace rose up an inch or two, worked Gina wetass's wet nightshirt wet up her wetass hips, up to her tummy, then sat down directly against wet her wet soaked panties. Her hands snaked under the huge shirt, up wet to wet bra the wet bra delicious heat wetass of Gina's bare chest. Gina groaned, a sad little sound that made Grace want to cry. Erik wet still held Gina's head up to the lights, so Grace wet couldn't really make out the wet bra expression on wetass her face. Her hands moved bra unceasingly along bra the lines of Gina's torso.
     "Come on wet Grace, come on." she wet shrieked, grabbing her sister's elbow and dragging her toward the big oak door wetass. In wetass a few strides, she was frantically working the doorknob. It wouldn't ass turn. As she struggled wet in vain to open the door, she heard a beep. The sound came from wet a cream-colored alarm panel on a nearby wall here. The security system wasn't there to keep burglars out; it was there to keep them in.
     Gina heard groaning from upstairs. She jumped, completely hysterical now, and looked around the wet room wetass. There was wet a chair in front of the desk. And a ass window next to wetass the door. Brushing by Grace, she grabbed the chair and ran with wet bra all her might toward the window. Threw wet the chair at the panes, through wet bra the paper blinds. The wet sound of shattering glass was the wetass most beautiful thing she'd ever heard.
     "Grace." She hurled her younger sister toward the opening. Pushed her through roughly without considering how far it was to the ground, stepped wetass through the wet jagged egress, and fell onto a hedge.
     They were probably both over reacting, but they were also wet uncommonly intuitive people. That's why wetass Gina's mom liked ass him, Seth figured.
     "Gina wet." He was at her side here in two quick strides. Gina and her little wetass sister were doubled over, gasping for air. It looked like wet they had run here from the neighboring county. They were both sweaty and looked like hell. Gina wetass was wearing her Hello Kitty nightshirt -stained with wet grass and blood - and those ridiculous flip-flops wet bra. Grace looked even worse; her skimpy raver girl outfit was equally stained and ass her face was smudged with wet makeup. One of her pigtails was mostly unraveled. "Baby bra, what happened?" he asked his tiny wet beloved, putting a soothing palm onto each girl's wetass back.
     Gina grabbed him tightly wet and pressed wet her face into his neck. Breathed for a moment. Then looked up at ass him through her bangs. "Call the fucking cops ass."
     The paper on the wet bra windshield was plain and white. Folded wet. She slipped it out from under the wet wiper.
     "Empty? No furniture? No nothing? Really? And the owner? They don't wet know? Well, you know wet how they are with records downtown."
     Gina turned the paper over in her wet hands and unfolded it. There was one sentence on it, printed in Arial. She covered wetass her mouth wetass and shuddered wetass.
     "You bet."