He reached out a hand, and placed it between her legs. She looked shocked, but didn’t dare move, she went to speak, but held her tongue. His hand re...ained still but he looked her directly in the eye defying her to object. When she offered no resistance, he began to slide his hand gently back and forward lightly across her openings, barely touching, yet still invading her privacy. She took a step back, and almost instantly his hand was on her shoulder holding her still. He pressed his hand. An old woman had fallen to her knees praying her thanks to God that she had made it out of the Hell that was Afghanistan at that time. She was a talkative female and shared her news of multiple cranes bearing the rotting fruit of dead recently hanged victims to advertise that Sharia Law was back in full bloom like the poppies that grew in all the fertile lands irrigated for bumper crops of the prime drug trade ingredient. I wondered where the Chinese females working the fields had come from and. I tried to focus, to remember, but all there was did nothing to help me. I remembered the beer, so much beer. Everyone having a great time in the pub, a regular Saturday, you might say. Then nothing. I tried to focus on myself, closing my eyes, for there was nothing to see in the blackness around me. I was in a chair. An armchair, and my hands and feet were tied to it with what felt like zip ties, clearly not rope. I focused on my body, what I could feel, and determined I was unharmed, except. He left his hand on the back of her head to ensure she did not move again while his dick pushed ever so slowly beyond her young lips. Her teeth lay beyond. He bit his lip once more and was wondering how best to overcome this obstacle when she obliged him entry and opened her jaw. He wondered momentarily if she was dreaming of lolly-pops. He hoped so.He moved himself back and forth slowly over her tongue covering the inside of her tiny mouth with his juices. With every thrust he pushed on deeper.