I watched his mouth move in the mirror as he spoke. "Give it up to me. Give me your hole. Oh, fuck yeah, take my fat black cock, pussyboy. Take it up ...our hot little hole. Squeeze it, pussyboy! Clamp down on my cock!" I obeyed, milking his cock with the muscles of my abused ass as he humped me. In the mirror, I watched him watching me and could also see, past our heads, where his ass rose and fell with each thrust into me. Our bodies rocked forward each time he hammered his cock deep up inside. I didn't need to tell them which song I wassinging next. 'You Can't Hurt Me' had become synonymous with SarahCarerra. Even those individuals who couldn't stand my music knew thissong. It had so thoroughly permeated the music scene in this country overthe last few months that it was nearly impossible not to have heard it atleast once.The music started immediately and I was thrust deeply into the emotionsthat performing this song always brought out in me. The pain and theanguish of that fateful. She asked me if I could take this and still love her afterwards. She asked if I could deal with both the emotional as well as the physical aspects of the fucked by a girl.She told me that she was going to totally break me. She was going to fuck me like I had never been fuck before. That it was going to be a truly "fucked" that would leave me a hollow shell. She promised to love me afterwards.I swallowed hard as I considered her request. I knew that once I committed to this, there was no backing. "He's the same as you Madeline. He's a lover of the silks and satins." You're joking!" No. As sure as I'm standing here. There he was, bold as you may. The purser knocked on the door then paused. He meant to close the door immediately behind him but I followed too closely and blundered in behind him quite innocently. It seems the purser knows about the captain's little peccadillo. There was the captain writing a report all decked out in his fine gown and wig. He looked up expecting to see only.