.. well... being... Then there was the voice.It was a throaty female voice. It seemed to use words, even sentences. But they were like a foreign langu...ge to him. Like when you can't know where one word ends and a new one begins.Yet, he knew their meaning. As he knew the meaning of what he saw. The words and the pictures seemed glued to his soul. Or even better: grafted on it. They were part of him, had always been.Hadn't they?He became aware of his body.It was perfectly immobile. He could make. It seemed so beautiful to her and her fingers once more started to knead her bud."Taste it Miss Webb, suck me."Holding her head he fed himself into her obliging mouth. He started to slowly fuck her face, and encouraged himself by talking dirty as he did so."Is you cunny dripping, you want my cock in you Miss Webb? I'm going to have you every day till my mother returns. Even then I will be expecting you to rub me each morning and empty my balls."Beth's resistance had gone, not only did she. More

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