I gasped for air, feeling like someone punched me in the stomach. Seeing him, all I could say and think was, ‘Oh, Dad.’ He looked so bad, but he w...s still so handsome. I had a break down right there in the casket room at the funeral home. I hit my knees on the floor in front of the table, and cried. Cried for what I lost, what I never had, what I’d never know. I ached. Not my body, but my soul. I closed my eyes againstthe image of my father, forty-three years old, as handsome as ever, stilled. I can feel how tight I am against the dildo, and although you can feel when my cunt has had enough, she can’t because she doesn’t have any feeling in her dick. She thrusts hard and deep, without any breaks in rhythm.I realize that she is doing this entirely to torture me. It has nothing to do with her pleasure, other than the pleasure she receives from seeing me orgasm, and so I try and talk myself into coming.I feel her fuck me harder and harder, without any sign of stopping. I begin to let. More

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