My hands pressed to the wall, clutching the edges of the bricks as if I prevent my falling if he let go of me. I feel my pants and panties bunched aro...nd my ankles. The man’s knees pressed into the back of mine, the roughness grinding into my own knees touching that rough brick, all the while her pumped into me.His long, hard strokes sent agonizing shards through my guts, like shards of glass cutting along the inside of my asshole. He drives that disgusting prick into my guts, deep thrust, one. "Are you a student at SDSU?" he asked. I replied, "No, I'm stationed here; military history is merely a hobby of mine. My name is Kevin, by the way." "Arthur," he stated while extending his hand. We shook and he asked, "Can I buy you lunch?" Never one to turn down a free meal, I agreed. I had taken public transit to the museum so we took his car to a cafe. We ordered our meals and we talked a little about ourselves. He was a professor at SDSU, never married or had children, and he thought I. More

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