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If anything it grew harder still, down among my shins and knees, knowing I suppose that it was only a matter of time before it would be buried to the hilt in this gorgeous womans hot wet hole. I gave her some time with my mouth on her fanny, and had moved my arms from her slender thighs to her firm breasts and even firmer nipples. These I tweaked using my fingers as scissors and cutting near the handle end so to speak. She mouthed some more enthusiastic utterances, all the while tightening her grip on my head which she had grasped eagerly at the start of my cunt sucking activities. Now it was my head that was in need of some air and I reluctantly tore myself away from her sopping wet gash. I also needed to straighten my legs which were threatening cramp. Standing up I then bent to kiss her, giving her back some juice from her well drenched pussy. As she slipped her ass off the bench her cunt clipped my prick and then it was no holding back after. The horse was loose so to speak, and. But he eventually managed and I felt his hand on my ass. He rubbed and squeezed it really slow like he was trying to enjoy every moment of it. Without any warning my Dad suddenly pulled my panties down off my waist and let them fall to the floor. Then he unzipped my skirt and it fell to the floor too. Our friend moaned then said "Oh god, this is incredible." He kept rubbing my now bare ass for a few seconds then slid his fingers down the crack of my butt until they found my anus. Once he was there he teased it by gently pushing his finger against it until it parted just a little. Suddenly he stopped, and started again a few moments later.. His finger was wet and slippery now.I didn't know how his finger got wet. I was guessing that he either licked it, spit on it, or put some precum on it. I couldn't tell. Slowly and carefully his now wet finger explored my butt hole. Once again he pressed it against the opening and once again it parted just a little, but this time he.
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He didn’t need any of that anymore, and after returning to a somewhat normal life the only thing he had to do was see the shrink every month and once in a while a specialist to make sure his brain would continue to develop and function normally after the trauma. That was three years ago tomorrow. He didn’t think he would be celebrating. Adam sat there for some time, lost in that thought. He spent a lot of time these days trying to remember something, anything from his past. He never did. Not what songs his mother used to hum to get him to sleep, not the name of the neighbors dog, not what brand of cigarettes his father smoked. Not a scrap of memory ever came to him. Not that he knew any of these would-be memories were accurate. He didn’t know if his dad smoked, or if the neighbor had a dog. He assumed his mother would have sung to him as a child, but again he didn’t know these details from the information he had collected from before his life was shattered. He couldn’t ask because.

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