Suddenly, she pulled herself away. She grasped my upper arms, looking into my eyes. "This is wrong, we shouldn't be doing this. I... " she said, breat...lessly. I quickly put a finger on her lips, maintaining our eye contact. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this, " I said, "but it's not wrong. I've wanted to do that for a long time now, and I think you did too. Do you want me to stop and go away?" "No, I don't want you to go," she replied, "but I'm all confused now. I don't think I was ready for. It clung to her, making her look like one of the Sports Illustrated body paint models. Where was the wet t-shirt competition when you needed one? But, it wasn’t the swimsuit or her nearly bare nipples that were catching my attention in this picture. Michelle and Mike had their arms wrapped around each other like a very loving couple and Michelle was looking up at Mike with a look of pure adoration on her face. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but that look on her face was harder on me than. .. Ughhh ... not his idea of fun, and second, the lesbo bitch was ... well, she was a lesbo bitch, not just that, but a MLF (Militant Lesbian Feminist) and inserting his cigar into her pussy was akin to rape, even if he was sufficiently motivated to beg.Anyway, she was hanging up her whips, putting away her latex and leather suit, and her other paraphernalia. ‘‘That’s it, I am already pregnant, you’ll get your baby, one child, your heir. You’re never bringing that THING near me again,’’ his. Nobody had ever told her what sex was, nobody had ever explained the male anatomy and the mechanics of copulation. What she saw filled her with a mix of horror and fascination. She felt guilty for the fascination, but also for having survived the attack whilst her mother hadn't.Afterwards, everybody had wanted her to tell what she had seen. She was mortified, not willing to explain those things for which she had no words, no concept. She had stayed mute, wishing it all to go away. Strangely it.