I spooned up against her, my throbbing shaft pressing between her buttocks. I know better than to try to penetrate her, so instead I just held her tig...tly until we both fell asleep. I loved the smell and feel of her hair brushing against my face, and the warmth of her soft skin pressed gently against me. --- “Get out of that thing,” said Beatrice, glaring down at me. I looked up to see Beatrice standing over me. She was clearly agitated. Once again I quickly realized that I was wearing her. I was still a whore. But Art married me, anyway. I love him so much.Bobby and Sandra hovered around Hope, laughing, teasing, making her feel wanted more than she had ever felt before. It's getting close to the time we're to go to our honeymoon suite as Arlene and the others call it. Oh, gosh, how should I act? I've seen and felt the cocks of many men. Most of the time I was instructed to act even younger than I was. Some of those men hurt me. All used me as a whore. What do I do with Art? Do I. More

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