He was rough and aggressive, ramming his steal cock deep into my pussy, pressing at the entrance of my cervix. Ii seems one of these days he will just...bust through the entrance of my cervix, like he has my pussy. He banged and grunted and slammed me against the picnic table which squeaked and creaked. He usually cared what happened to me, how powerful my orgasm was, but this time he was just fucking me, using me as a slut. There is something exciting about being a used slut I thought. He was. I would never wash them as I would like them to smell of the last masturbation session sat in the cubicles. Months later my solo fantasys were at an end, after noticing a hole in the cubicles door and an eye peering through from the otherside, looking at me dressed in white urine and cum sodden pantys my hair in pigtails, my white socks and flatchest. I stopped masturbating but kept my hand in my pants, I was a bit scared and didn't know what to do, the eye kept looking at me. Then it dawned on. More

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