#264156 - But is it only that fear which makes me hurriedly shuffle closer on my knees, take a bracing grip around your thighs, and thrust my mouth against your parted pussy-slit? Or is there something more, something that is impelling me to be eager to please you, to pleasure you, and not just from terror of what you might do to me? I don’t know, I just don’t know, and it is that most of all which has my shoulders heaving in silent empty sobs, as my abused body kneels between your legs and for the first time ever in my life (and with a sinking heart, I realise that it is the first of many, many more times to come) my tongue slides along another woman’s pussy, and tip of it eases into her moist vagina to stimulate her to climax. The whole bed creaks and groans with each downward impact, and I start to squeal as well – it feels like some road gang is excavating a tunnel through my pussy and my pelvis, and now they are starting to set off dynamite to blast their way through. My head is spinning,
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