But I didn't let her go. I held her there, my cock still buried inside her violated pussy, my hands holding her tits, my face against hers, my sweaty ...ody against hers, for seconds, then minutes. She felt suffocated, violated. She wanted out. She wanted him off. Please let him leave, she thought, sobs still shaking her body. When I finally pulled out she choked back her sobs, hoping I would let her get dresses and leave, now. She lays there face down on the floor limp as she feels my cock slide. As aware as I am of the nature and physiology of the part of you that I will soon enter, I wish I knew who I was. Who was my creator? Was I always what I am. Will I die and eventually go back to where I was before I was born? For now, I am sensing your body. Your tanned arms and shoulders. The peaceful face, gorgeous in its sculpture. The sheet tucked over your thighs and along your belly. Though, I have no awareness of feeling touch, the tactile stimulation, that you can understand---yet, I. More

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