It was fun. They taught me how to fuck and other stuff. And I had a LOT of orgasms!" As she was telling me this, I watched her hand between her legs. ...I ... I n n know I'm not suppose to touch myself without permission. P p ppplease sir, give me permission so I don't break the rules." I did, and she came within thirty seconds. Dinner was over!Walking to my bungalow, all I could think about was fucking Stacy. But by the time we arrived, the heavy Italian meal had taken effect, along with all the. I would stagger back, undoubtedly tearing up, and quite frankly it would hurt like hell. I can’t stop my body from hurting, but by changing the meaning that I put on pain, I can lessen the intensity and keep it from slowing me down. I can’t block pain, but I can perceive it in a less potent way. To me, a wound hurts because it sends signals to my brain, but never do I let fear invoke fear or anger, and it is in that struggle that real pain is experienced. Quite simply, I don’t mind it hurting,. More

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