Encased on a white, cotton, long-sleeved shirt, her breasts weighted less as they were held up by him, by it. Cupped and groped, the strangest sensati...n of Agnes’ life was flailing her arms in front of her, where whatever or whoever was doing this should be, and finding nothing. Yet, the stimulation to her body was undeniable, impossible to ignore.Its’ touch was familiar, knowledgeable. He held and kneaded and rubbed her just the right way, the same way Victor always did before. Memory, indeed.. I felt him get into position behind me and in between my legs when I felt what I thought was his cockhead press against my pulsing asshole. As I felt him surge into me I realized it was not his cock as whatever he was using was stretching me to my limit as he pushed it deep into my ass until he got it in deeper than anything I have taken to this point. I had never been so opened up and fucked so deep that it actually was hurting a bit and I was contemplating putting a stop to it when he leaned. More

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