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Her fingers danced across my clit, brushed through my petals, parted my slid, and entered me. I whimpered weakly; struck by the visceral way I felt the violation. It was like I was a virgin again. Every touch was alien and sent alarms blaring through my synapses. It was horrifying, and yet, it was so… so good. My nerves were reawakened, my flesh was freshly tainted, and I felt my purity being corrupted with every motion of her hand. Evil things were done inside me, done with malicious intent, done with an abhorrent desire to shock and control me, and I became a slave to them, loving every surface of her invasion. My thighs clamped around her wrist, and I mewled and whined as though in distress. I suppose I was in distress, for the sensations that coursed through me were as terrible as they were delightful, and the trauma I felt was real and vivid. But I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the horror as much as I enjoyed the pleasure. I know where you really like it. Alkandi chuckled in my mind.. Finally Aunt Lind said "you keep grabbing my tits, here why don't you just grab them the right way instead of your little touch here and there". Aunt Dee just said "Holy Shit why don't you just fuck him right here". Aunt Linda then said "that doesn't sound like a bad idea". I reached out and began to massage her tits. They felt great. Because she never had k**s, I guess they stayed perky because they were the same as a 30 year olds. Because of all the drinks we were pretty wasted and feeling no pain. Aunt Linda put her arms around my neck and said "do you still kiss as well as you did all those years ago. I said "better", and with that Aunt Linda and I locked in a French kiss as I was still groping her tits. Aunt Dee just watched in shock. We finally broke our kiss and Aunt Dee said "are you done now, what the fuck"? Aunt Linda and I began to laugh and I slowly let my hand go down to her stomach and finally into her waistband and felt her cunt. Aunt Linda turned and looked at me with.
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She had taken a few classes at a junior college before Fred made her stop. She thought about moving to the west coast. She had about two thousand dollars saved up that Fred didn’t know about. She could just leave and he was too lazy to bother looking for her. She decided that at the end of the week, she would leave Brian with Fred and try to start a new life for herself. She would finally be free. Annabelle walked into her dilapidated apartment. It was freezing. She cringed every time she looked at the dingy green curtains. They were torn, tattered and dirty. They smelled of cigarettes and had burn holes in them. The walls were tinged brown, and the carpet was old and smelled mildewy. “Fred!’ she called. ‘Brian, mommy’s home.’ There was no reply. She found that strange since usually Fred would be on his second six-pack at this time asleep in the chair. She also noticed that Brian’s wheelchair was gone. For a moment she got excited. She held on to the hope that one day Fred would.

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