No soft to medium to hard; just fast, hard, stinging slaps across my ass; across my shoulders; across my back, probably 8-10 in all. He abruptly stops...and presses the vibrating dildo hard up against my clit and cunt! GOD! My head was spinning, trying to keep up! The pain was so hot and urgent, yet the pleasure was curling up like a knot inside of me! My hips were moving trying to fuck the dildo, I was moaning and moaning; I could feel drool sliding from the side of my mouth! Then the dildo. She tried to yell, to tell him he was in thewrong place when it occurred to Elaine that he had nointentions of fucking her cunt; he wanted her ass.Although she felt like a cheap whore, Elaine could notallow this violation and renewed her struggles againsther bonds through her sexual excitement. When she feltthe thick head pass her anal ring, she stopped herstruggles and concentrated on the intense pain she feltin her ass. Elaine remained motionless as tears streameddown her face with each inch. He had heard of her great longing for sex to be a part of her life again and offered her some comfort that it was possible she might meet another good man similar to her first husband. He often prayed for her after that and wished another priest had been there to hear her as he felt that he understoood her more from this experience.The only woman who he felt sexually aroused by was Sarah. He was puzzled by this and wondered whether it was her plump body or the knowledge that she had previously. A girl could dream couldn’t she? Sara truly doubted she would ever see that bag again though. Someone had probably walked off with it almost as soon as she had walked away or been dragged away or whatever had happened the previous night. She is sighed. There goes another expensive handbag down the drain. On top of it, her parents had told that because the amount of stuff she had been losing lately the next Coach bag she wanted she was going to be paying for all on her own. It would take her.
Read MoreIf I didn’t get thrown out completely there would still be the inevitable parent-teacher conference where my shame would be displayed before my moth
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