My pussy was his next play zone, across his large desk. The smooth polished surface of the wood, stunning and magnificent: but it was nothing compared...to my exposed shaved girly bits. Yeah I had a pussy to die for. Shapely intriguing uneven lips, no slit symmetry, no butterfly shape; just a big lip and a smaller lip and a popper of a clit. The sort of delicate impelling flesh guys don’t usually get to see; so special: so me and loaded with my womanly scent, a musky perfume released on cue for. Somebody was trying to talk to me but they finally just faded away. It was much more peaceful again. I needed that. I knew I was hurting, I just didn’t know how badly, and snoozing was a good way of not worrying about it for the time being. The next thing I recall was waking up with a god-awful hunger. My stomach was telling me that my throat must have been cut. I still didn’t feel much like moving but at least I didn’t feel like sleeping anymore just then. So I waited. About an hour later, a. More

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