She was in a box or container of some kind, with one hole on each side. Even the hole that wasn’t used to penetrate her was still used to shoot cum ...t her, getting it in her hair. The box was held up in mid-air to enable better penetration from all angles. Every day for the past several days, she had been washed clean and allowed vitamin supplements as well as fluids, even graduating to juices and smoothies, but by no means limited to these. No solid food was permitted yet, though.Who fucked. Only the clothes sellers that run women’s magazines do not understand just how much such a woman features in men’s fantasies.The conversation that night ranged from geeky to the long story of how a colleague, Paul, had spent a previous evening going from woman to woman to try to hook up, eventually sleeping with the only person left: a male student with dreadlocks and a ripe odour. Emma and I had been friends for a while and neither of us was into vanilla flirtation when it was possible to talk. It's probably a good thing that in the aftermath of my fight, myattackers gave me a wide berth, as I was pretty busy trying to processthe memories flooding my brain.Then just when I was starting to think I had adjusted, I had a visitorcome to my house.She was a pretty red-head, college age from the look of her, and when Ianswered the door she said, "Hi. This may sound weird, but I need tospeak to your sister as soon as possible. It's really important." You must have the wrong house, miss. I. White moves over to where Grace's clothes are piled up on the tile floor. He picks them up, and looking her straight in the eye, rubs his massive cum-covered cock all over her frilly black dress. "Let's see you go back to your husband in that!" Mr. White laughs. "I'm sure Pastor Will'll have a nice sermon for us this week!"She scowls at him, as the older man stuffing her face cackles. "A cum rag for the cumrag! Brilliant!"After cleaning himself off on Grace's garments, Mr. White picks up his.