It depicted a faintly smiling blonde woman, probably in her late twenties, wearing a dark blue military uniform with medal ribbon bars on the breast. ...ehind her, against a gloriously cerulean sky, the painter had fashioned a Lancaster bomber. Like a black insect of ill omen, the aircraft contrasted sharply with the beautiful, rosy cheeked picture of health that was the woman. I need not have asked who the woman in the painting was for one look at her translucent blue eyes told me that it was. I tried to stop the fall but as my hands were tied with rope, i wasnt able to. I knew we were somewhere in a forest as i could hear the birds and feel the leaves on the ground with my hands. I wasnt comfortable laying on the cold ground like this. I heard footsteps walk away from me, so at that point i was all alone and i tried to get loose out of the rope that was holding my hands together, but they were tied so good i was not able to. Then i heard footsteps come towards me and while i was. Fridays, they would have me there for dinner, and then leave us alone in the house to make tongue sucking and kissing marathons. I think I must be on my way to heaven. I would get very hard in seconds and then it would dribble out as we held each other close and pressed our bodies together. By the time I went home, my shorts were thick with sticky cum. Then I went home to sneak into the bathroom and jerk off. I honestly had no idea how it could ever progress to getting my hand into her blouse. He removed his hand from my head, so my face wasn't pressed into the pillow, and now both his hands were pulling my cheeks apart ... And then his cock broke through the ring of my ass and dammit it hurt, but it was thrilling to get fucked again, being a helpless schoolgirl getting fucked hard. Now that he was inside me, he grabbed my hips and pushed inside, slow strokes, a bit deeper each time, and I told him he was being too rough, slow down. He stopped for a moment, told me to quit being so.
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