“Like what? What the fuck is going on here? Why am I here and what do you want from me? You won’t find anything there.”“Do you feel anything?�...� she repeated her question. “Any pleasure? Any tingling? Anything?”“Just the annoyance of someone running her finger up and down my piss slit.” I was getting pissed off.Dr. Deckard pushed her finger in my dry hole.“Damn you. Haven’t you heard of lube?”“I will have to remove the membrane,” said the doctor.“Not a fuck,” I said. “Nobody is going to cut me. Soon, I was grinding my cock into the bedsheet as he went back to kiss, knead and roll my butt cheeks. His hands were helping me to grind myself into the bedsheet plus his fingers were also trying hard to get into my wet ass hole; surely searching for my prostate. His rubbing there was bringing me extremely close to my climax once again, making me resist and return to being on my back with my cock up while his palm tried to stay firm on my back; asserting the symbolic control nevertheless; to. More

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