He stood again, and watched her, speaking in a soft voice. Again he came close, again she fought, kicking, almost faint from lack of breath. Again. Sh... weakened, her limbs slower to respond to her will, her head heavy. Still she fought. And his eyes followed her pallid limbs as they convulsed with her anger and fear. Finally she lay exhausted before him. He knelt over one of her legs, his hand on the other. She shook her head, her eyes begged him to stop. He ran his hand over her body, feeling. I wasn’t just intrigued, but very, very excited. As the minutes came and went, I was more and more desperate to get a good view of Her. I was already at that time – in my early 20s – well-versed to finding a good position to get into to ogle a girl showing – usually a nice outfit. Every time I was fortunate enough to see a skimpy-dressed girl – rare though it was, and rarely that skimpy in those days – I could think of nothing else but find a way to look at Her until sex-pleasure was mine,. More

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