This would be a nonissue, if it weren't for the fact I cannot remember anything about myself except my name.I'm feeling very frustrated. Over the last...few days, I've been trying to remember anything about who I am, where I am, anything. I've seen a couple of things about this place, and it's very weird. I'll try and summarize what I've seen the best I can.The doors outside are more than locked. I can't get them to budge no matter what I do. There is an attic and a basement, both of which have. He apparently likes to dress up his wife with cleavage exposing dress and her ass protruding out. And whenever she dresses up, she sends me pics of her ‘dressed to kill’ and exposing her skin at the right places. I have told her a couple of times to show deeper cleavage which would be a head turning factor for any guy. And she herself admitted that she started getting more attention from men. We were that close.One day during our conversation, I told her about my fantasy of swapping partners. "Shit, this is cold as ice."Megan tried rubbing it, hoping the friction would warm it up, but also found that it had a rough texture. Using her finger nail file, Megan smoothed the skin a much as possible, and although it was now quite smooth, it was still very cold. Rushing to the bathroom, she placed it in the sink and turned on the hot water. When the water got hot, she closed the drain and filled the sink. The hot water did it's job and Megan drained the sink and started back to her room,. I want some of that too."

When the van was back on the freeway, the new one, the one who had been driving, lay down on the sweaty, come stained mattress, and pulled me on top of him. The others, tired, sat against the sides of the van, watching me move my ass up and down, watching his cock slide in and out. One of them rolls onto his knees behind me. "Hold her still, " he growls. 

The new one's hands grab my butt and hold it while the other guy pushes up my ass, the way Brad and Jefferson had.