There was one real life component. Other than the M A D victims. Under an alias four times removed from his identity as Phillip Massimino, he had purc...ased a 1950s bomb shelter in a relatively isolated section of central Massachusetts.A thorough scouring of his Colonial house in Wooster found some trace blood samples and DNA from two women in his basement furnace room. He’d probably started his secret life there.Our physical life was back running more or less normally. I was still lost in The. I may be ill, I may be dying, I may be alcohol poisoned but I am a creature of curiosity and if I am never to leave this place then there are things I wish to know.I have no memories; despite my best fuzzy, throbbing headed efforts I cannot recall a single detail of arriving. There was an off-licence, a second bottle of vodka, tears and a park bench but beyond that blankness. I have no clothes and no shoes. I thought of leaving, of finding my bag, my pretty diamante heels and the thigh length. We were using both our lips. She then took my hands in her hands and placed it on her back and I pulled her closer and shifted in the room.Since we were standing on the balcony, the lights were already dimmed. I slowly moved my hands towards her ass. Oh, my god, the ass was so big. She was still wearing the gown that I had gifted her and I was moving my hands all over the back and ass.She broke the kiss and said “Take me. I want you to give me my birthday gift.” I asked, “Are you sure and. We both knew that this was only going to make things more difficult for each other. But we were breathing hard and we wanted it. I pushed her head down into the pillows and she arched her back obediently. I pushed inside of her.The drink, the sex, and the excitment turned much of the rest of the night into a blur. I fucked her on her back. She rode me. I turned her around and fucked her from behind again."This is my favorite position," she told me, woozily, I and fucked her harder.I sucked on.