My breasts, oh God my breasts. Beaten flesh bags striated with welts topped off with merino cherries. Nipples sensitive to every stray waft of air, a ...air of bulbous tit-handles humiliated, hurt, and horrified. For five minutes chilled, sobbing and shaking I stayed there viewing and touching the abuse I had unleashed on my own delicate, precious body until only one part of me remained unexplored. Quakingly upright, I staggered to the mirror to confront my Dorian Gray portrait. It might have. We were in the shallow end of the pool and we could stand. Sally is two or three years older than me and was living alone as her parents were overseas for six months. I considered she was about 20 or 21. She works in the library at the University where I am studying. She has short curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and a beautiful smile....and figure. I had no idea she had any interest in me. I had no clue that anything like this might happen.I was flabbergasted, why was she doing this, I had never. More

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