Naked Scripts
CHAPTER 3
MIA
I do, instantly, palms flat on a tower of life jackets that comes up to my waist. The plastic smells like lake water and mildew. He flips my sundress up to my hips in one motion.
“Fuck, Mia,” he mutters, fingers sliding under my bikini ties. “Still dripping from earlier. Dirty fucking girl.”
I whimper, pushing back. “Please, Uncle Chris, quick—”
He doesn’t make me wait. Two fingers hook my bikini bottoms and yank them to the side. Then the thick, blunt head of his cock is right there, sliding through my folds, coating himself in what he left in the pantry.