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She had crazy written all over her. But all she wanted was a cigarette.Living in the city, you get pretty tired of the constant barrage of beggars and pan-handlers. But she was pretty cute, even with her unkempt blonde hair, clothes that hadn't been washed in days, and yes, crazy eyes. So instead of waiving her off, I asked her,"what do I get in return?" She laughed, I laughed back. I was drunk. She was obviously fucked up, one way or another. But we both knew what I was getting at.I can't remember exactly how the conversation went, but it went on for a couple of minutes. My buddy could see where this was going and bid me a good night. As he left, I suddenly realized that this was going to happen. She came up close to my ear and whispered, "how much money do you have?" Not being a big fan of credit cards, I knew I still had at least a hundred dollars on me, so I couldn't resit. I said, "I bet I have enough for you." We both laughed again, and she took me by the hand and. Yesterday she had taken a rope and fed it through ametal ring bolted to the celling. She took the looseends and tied 50 knots in them. A pair of handcuffswere fed through the loop created so that when shelocked the handcuffs around her wrists she would haveto untie all the knots before releasing herself withthe key that was on the floor.She had timed herself untie those 50 knots and she knewit would take longer for her to free herself than theenema would take to work it's way inside her undergravity. She opened the valve on the enema bag halfway and snapped her hands into the cuffs.She nearly came as the warm milk entered her body. Shefelt like her inner self was being invaded and she waspowerless to prevent it. She wriggled a bit, just asa happy experiment to see if she could shake the enemakit free. After a couple of pints her wriggling wouldbe for a very different reason.The enema slowly filled her body. After a minute herbum was filled and the liquid slowly started to.
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Nobody was entirely sure of her heritage but she looked perhaps half-Portuguese. And the image of her naked on a bed, her small breasts on show, Helen between her legs, pushing a thick strap-on into the girl, stretching her out... I was getting hard again, and quickly.“We need condoms,” I said. “If we keep talking like this I’m liable to fuck you again.”A smirk from Helen’s beautiful lips. “What about Carol, then,” she said. “You like the look of her. What about her, bent over a desk, skirt up, begging for cock?”“Good grief,” I said, and my arousal kept growing. “Which end would you take?”“I think I’d flip her over,” she said, “and teach her how to deep-throat. If I get a strap-on I want to make her throat bulge with it.”The image went straight to my shaft, which was almost painful by now. “Sweet Jesus,” I said. Her hand landed on my shaft and started stroking. “I mean, what else could I do? I guess I’d just have to fuck her til she screamed and cum all over her.” I leant over and.

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