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It didn't happen. It wouldn't go - she called out in pain and I stopped trying."Maybe you need something to make it slippery." Yeah, but what?" Maybe my vagina. Put it in there first." I dipped it in. It was still very wet in there. And tried again. It went in part way but it still hurt her. "Maybe some vaseline from the medicine cabinet," she suggested.I smeared some on me and into her opening. That did the trick. God it was tight. And she exclaimed, "It's so big." But we kept fucking that way. I tried different angles. So much fun. "Like that," she exclaimed when my cock was aimed almost forward. She was starting to cum and so was I. I felt myself filling her rear, but she said, "It's hurting." So I pulled out and watched the last of my shots land on her butt cheeks.===Heather==="That was amazing," I told him. "It felt so good, but then it started to hurt." He appologized, but I said, "No. No. I wanted that. Maybe next time it will be even better. ... Let's take a shower." And we. They were the finest silk panties that could be bought. She hoped Perry appreciated them. Her juices surged, wetting the sheer, taut band."Perry..." Now Abby, I want you now!" If you don't watch out, you'll make another mess." She could tell he was loosening his pants. "And anyway, it's not the right time. You might make a baby..." I've got something..." Don't Perry... don't!" She had a grip on his wrist but he was sliding the band of her panties to one side, getting a finger between the swollen lips of her pussy. She could feel the taut black curls divide. Then her back arched and she quivered like an arrow had gone through her. "Uhhhnnnnnn!" Abby... let me kiss you." She could feel his mouth slip down her neck, down the swooping neckline of her dress. Then he caught her head between his hands and pressed his lips hard against hers. She struggled. Abby didn't like to let Perry kiss her unless he'd been especially nice or brought a gift or something like that. But he had her firmly,.
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The one thing she had to be above. At least for now. In her general scheme of things of course, it was small beer; she knew that. Yet it was a departure from the script just the same. And she was growing less and less fond of departures. As before, when excitement grew so uncertainty waned. At first, lingering germs of doubt had made her uneasy. How could one know, after all? What if the actuality appalled? One thing to dream; another to? But now she did know. Knowing also that her chosen road permitted no u-turns. A fact she had found a little scary. That part of her still obdurate in it’s attachment to normality horrified; wanting nothing more than to turn away from the scene she had worked so hard to contrive and return again to the metaphysical haven of personal imagination. The hermetically sealed world of private desire. She recalled reading that fear of the irrevocable was the only true definition of sanity. She also recalled finding that sage. So now, pronouncing herself.

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