She couldnt breathe! in a few minutes, she adjusted to my strokes and matched my hip movement.She started rubbing her clit and i started talking dirty...to her….. ‘ bol saali mazza aa raha hai?’…. ‘ haan bhaiya, bahut mazaa aa raha hai….. aaah aaaah….’ i went in deeper and faster, our bodies thumping against each other…. she also started abusing me…. ‘ roz chodiyo mujhe haraami, madarchod!’…….. ‘haan saali, koi chhed khaali nahi jaayega tera, poori aurat bana ke bhejunga yahan se’ my strokes were. Every evening she felt cautious and wary of the ever increasing darkness that Autumn brings. It was either that or a taxi that she could ill afford or take the long way home adding an extra fifteen minutes to her journey.She would enter the park at its West gate and walk around the great big horse chestnut trees until she encountered the long tiled area down the centre; lined with benches and beech trees that shed their bright orange, almost metallic leaves. Half way down was a small building. Going back to Alan's place again, almost three months after he had first helped me to masturbate, we continued to enjoy each other. Sometimes he liked to just sit back and stroke himself while he watched me pleasuring myself either on the sofa or laying down on the floor in front of him. Alan also liked it when I was on all fours with my bottom in the air, it wasn't as easy to stroke myself but I liked knowing he was aroused by having my pert anus presented to him, inviting his finger of his. ‘In my boot there is a knife… should be sharp enough for the job.’ With his other foot aiding him, Jon kicked off his right boot and then lay still upon the ground. ‘Hurry.’ Deep breaths, Maria, I thought to myself. Do what must be done. But deep breaths didn’t come, no matter how hard my lungs called to them. All I managed were shallow gasps and frantic fingers. The knife slid out of the boot easily into my trembling hand. I removed it from the sheath. A wicked edge caught the dawn’s light… a.