Logically, if the heart stops (that moment before I died), then the flow of blood to the brain ceases, If the brain stops, then there cannot be a memo...y.For the next few weeks, I was shit scared to do anything; rehab soon set me straight on that thought, “You’re not sick get the finger out and exercise” So a rigorous regime of torture was implemented. A brisk walk around the rehab centre for 15minutes, then hand weights for 5 minutes then the step up for another 10, then stretches. Shit, I’ve. But now how hard I wanted to be fucked was up to me, and soon I was riding up and down as hard as my weak little thighs could lift me, and repeatedly banging his cock-head from my rectum to my diaphragm. It slipped out with a painful snap, but when it escaped, I aimed my ass and re-inserted him with reckless abandon, for now my rectum was wet and ready. He stroked my bobbing breasts and cock as I screamed and rode him until I was totally exhausted and glistening with perspiration. As I rested. More

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