"OK, he says, but it'll hurt again." He exits, spits some more spit onto his dick. Another thrust, another painful explosion, as predicted. "Ooh, no..." I yell, my eyes filled with tears.He's unmoved, his member still inside. "Give it a moment, you'll see." The pain relents indeed, faster than the first time. "Better?" he asks. "Yes," I say. "Gently," I say. He's pushing ever so gently now. "Five inches to go," he's counting down, "four. three." If I would have words for the sensation. . Her appearance changed throughout the passed few years from prim and proper into more expressive with piercings, tattoos, and clothing. And most positively was the inner depths of who she was that changed. She accepted her differences which she labeled uniqueness. Her personality was freed and in moments of pure freedom with friends, she would loudly let it be known who she truly was and gave no care who bared witness. Basically, she was more expressive throughout all aspects of her own being. More

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