Sandra is Affraid of Becoming Her Mother

"What would mom say about this?" Sandra asked me.

"Think about it. I just got fucked rough by a guy with a room full of bondage gear. More then that, with his own fucking **** too."

She laughed to herself. My pit started to sink. From what she told me before about her relationship with her parents, this didn't sound like a good thing.

"I guess me and my mother share a type." she sighed. "I just wish it was a better type."

"Should I be offended." I raised an eyebrow. I was smiling and taking it like a joke, but inwardly the implication left me uncomfortable too.

Sandra seemed to realize the effect it had on me. She nudged my shoulder, right when I needed it.

"You're not like my father. Well, you kind of are. But, in a good way." She wrapped her arms around me.

Yet, even as we held each other close, I couldn't help but feel like Sandra was still not totally here with me. She was trapped in her own head.

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