He reared up slightly and grasped his cock. It was huge, veiny, ready. He began to lower himself to her. The first touch. the knowledge that she was ...bout to get fucked. Not made love to, not entertained, but FUCKED, was lightning through her body. He rubbed his thick cock up and down between her lips. This was no longer her vagina or her pussy, this was her CUNT. “fuck me” she said again. He thought this time he could sense a little bit of urgency, almost a plea. “fuck me. Fuck me! FUCK ME!”. Underneath her tears, the eyes were just there. They offered no window to her soul, no clue to her person. No feeling. I think they were what struck me most and were certainly the part of her image that has woken me in a cold sweat every night since. The last detail I noticed was a beautiful cross hanging from a chain around her neck. The cross was sparkling proudly on her breast apparently oblivious to the horror surrounding it. Combined of both silver and gold it was quite possibly the most. Moira asked after Debbie and I told her she was doing her A levels and would be starting at Warwick University in September. I told her it had been a difficult couple of months for my daughter and all the problems she encountered. When I told Moira of the canings at school Debbie received she smiled and said poor Debbie, like mother like daughter. I kissed Moira on the cheek and told her I was off to bed as I was shattered from the journey and promised we would have a proper catch-up. To close I thought for just meeting him, so I pushed him back a little, and he had his hand on my butt pulling me forward, so I gently pulled his hand higher. He pulled his head back and smiled, “you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said. But as the dance moved on, he pulled me closer, I didn’t resist him this time. He pulled me tight, my hard breasts were rubbing his chest, and his hand dropped lower to my but again. For some reason I didn’t try to stop him this time, I was starting to.