I felt her skin and considered the velvety texture of it, even on the bottoms of her feet. It was different now. The softness…it seemed as though sh... had not walked at all to get her, and this struck me as being strange. This adolescent, grown-up lady, stuck her breasts majestically, so that I could see them in their fullness and perkiness. I was a great lover of large, buxomness and joyed by the sight of these mammaries – maybe 38D or even E. Yet she carried them like an aging expensive hooker. He stumbled on, trying to keep up the jog as the trainers ordered. The trainer, a stocky blonde woman, kept up her own jog next to him. She peeled off after a minute, but watched him half jog, half stumble his way around the pen. He could feel his legs failing, as the muscles were trembling and burning. He was crying softly, and the sobs only made his forced jog worse. He couldn’t get enough air, his throat was closing up, if he stopped they were going to beat him. He stumbled. His right leg. More

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