She dipped her head fully under the shower to soak her hair. The water cascaded down her body. She squirted a large measure of creamy white shower gel... into her hand and then began to rub it into her hair. The mixture foamed up, the excess started to run down her neck and shoulders. She positioned herself out of the flow of the water. Having her arms raised up to reach her hair had lifted her breasts high, making them appear even firmer and more prominent. Her hands then worked their way down. That is, they looked soft…I hadn’t touched them at that point. She was a Jewish girl, with long, thick, dark hair. I’d eventually make good use of that hair… It was early enough in the morning that Judy hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. She was wearing a long, black cotton nightie—really, just a big, long t-shirt—and I enjoyed watching those big, braless tits flop around underneath it. As the morning wore on Judy and I started flirting with each other. I figured if I bided my time and waited. Ritchie and I have an ongoing plan, conceived over many drunken nights out and in his bar/entertainment area; to get Tasha and Keri to make out. Tasha is European, and used to social nudity (we had on many occasions seen her completely nude, either in the sauna or the hot tub) but had yet to display her sexual side in our presence. Keri was usually game for anything after a few drinks, and we were counting on her to get Tasha “in the mood”. The dinner was amazing, despite the horror of. How could I have begged for this moments ago? Did it always hurt like this? I try to swallow the scream, to form words like please, fuck, or stop but there is too much chaos in the pain and my words spill out in pitiful whimpers. “Shh sweetie,” I hear your disembodied voice comforting from somewhere outside the pain. “This is what you asked for. You know your words.” The tone in your voice is one that reminds me to be brave, if you were worried I couldn’t take it you would ask me what my words.