For as big a man as my rapist was, he moved fast. Nasty gross statements, how I wanted this, how I fucked him back, oh, so, good. Blowjob sex It didn’t work. Where did this happen? No, I wasn’t doing that. The saltiness of it and rank odor of my captor’s sweaty crotch turned my stomach. And the worst of the worst happened. Shame, shame, loathing, disgust, and still, I enjoyed the abuse. And, where am I? It felt as it an axle handle were shoved from pussy into my tummy. Up, nearly out, thrusting deep again, and tongue, that magic tongue ran all over my honey pot. I was so ashamed, I didn’t want anyone to know. At last, the discharge stopped. He hadn’t washed there afterward. My eyes fluttered open, and the darkness in the room neared that in my mind. I don’t recall if he was there as I walked out of the locker room.
