“Julie, let me do that.” You nodded your agreement and offered your breasts. My mouth melted across the fullness of them, trailing a liquid tongue-line as I explored your skin. Your nipples almost buzzed as I sucked and swallowed, tasted and teased. And so erotic was the contrast between softness of flesh and hardness of peaks. Nibbling and nipping… kneading with my hands and knowing with my mouth. Such beautiful breasts… bliss on my lips. “I see you’re enjoying this,” you said as my penis twitched and expanded against the down of your delta. “Is there anything I can do to help you even more?” Giving your nipples one final kiss, I looked directly into your softening eyes and said, “I want to watch you masturbate… for me.” There was a moment of silence. I wasn’t sure if I’d offended you. And then, like steam from trains in the far-away night, my concern vanished when you sank to the carpet, lithe as a cat, spread your legs, and purred, “Like this?” It was a powerful moment. Two. When Matt would walk by, I would feel lower than dirt, my son seeing my exposed, stretched holes made me feel like shit. I would try to plead with him to help me, but he thinks I’m playing some sick game and he isn’t interested in being involved. Occasionally, he will walk in on me during a sexual assault I will stretch my arms out for help, pleading with him, but his eyes avoid watching me be subjugated to being a dog’s fuck toy. I have never felt so alone and terrified in my life. The pregnancy was quick, much quicker than it would have been for a human baby. The day of the delivery arrived much sooner than I thought. It was early morning and I had just got done being raped for the second time that night when sharp, indescribable pain erupted from my lower abdomen. I yelled out loudly, gripping my belly and trying to stabilize my breathing. The pain was explosive, my head felt foggy from the increasing pressure in my loins. I propped myself up, leaning my back against the couch and.
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