. . the phrase alone sounds so depraved, but I found out that it doesn't have to be. Well, hell, maybe it is, but perhaps that's the fun of it! I came...to this realization a few years after college, when I was dating Emma. She was short, with dirty blond hair, and a mischievous smile. She was not skinny, but not big either; she was sorta pear-shaped and curvy, which was strangely attractive when she would walk naked through her apartment. We met in a bar one night. She was with a friend and I. Only to be replaced by a stiffer corset but without the electric wires. She was then led away to a large what appeared to be a stable area, with some 20 separate stalls but the stalls were more like cages. In some of the Cages were women but they had bushy hair extensions which gave the appearance of being similar to a horses mane and all the women looked really strange as they had obviously something stuck out of their arses with bushy artificial hair hanging from it, this created the. I grabbed his hand and pulled it towards me, forcing his now probing four fingers well into my asshole. I let go of his wrist and he continued rotate and push into my hole, his fingers getting sloppy with the KY and my rectal juices.I couldn’t help myself, but moaned loudly and said, “God yes, spread me open. I want you in me. I want you to shove your hand into my hole. God, oh God, please do it.”Freddy tried to push in further, now with four fingers and his thumb together forming a wedge that. The expression on her face changed. It was an expression that I could identify because it was the same as I had.Soon after saying that to her, I realized that she was a friend of my mom’s. In fear of the same, I tried to leave her place.She said: Relax, I know you’re scared that I will tell your mom. But don’t worry, I won’t do anything like that.I just smiled and said thank you and left. I didn’t go to her place the next day, thinking she would have told my mom. But she seemed cool enough to.