Her pussy felt like it might explode it was so tight around my fist but I kept forcing my hand into her cunt until I had it up to my wrist and she was moving for all she was worth on my hand as tears ran from her eyes watching my arm go into her cunt. Her body shook and I fucked her wet tight cunt with the full force of my hand making sure I got good pictures of all of it. I felt her shivering and knew that in spite of herself she was near orgasm. I had my hand past my wrist and was fucking her going deeper until I couldn't go in any further. I guess taller girls have longer canals. I said this is the trouble with you give you a hand and you take my arm. I felt her screaming into the gag and felt her body shake racked with pain and pleasure as she came hard and my hand her head moving up and back as tears flowed freely from her eyes. She came at least twice more in spite of herself crying all the time. I could see the gag had wet through as she tried to scream and I had pussy. And then she’d cried a little bit because she recognized Jean Water’s stubborn independence and the near-hatred of the thought of being a burden as qualities within herself, and so she understood why Aunt Jean had waited so long to tell her she was dying. Whether or not she liked it, she at least had some understanding. After those tears she hadn’t cried, even once, during the two weeks that she had stayed with her Aunt, caring for her during her last moments of life, talking and laughing and remembering little things and big things, and just doing the best they could do for each other. Nor had she cried the morning she found Aunt Jean had slipped away quietly in her sleep, when Abe had nudged at her hand in the eerily silent pre-dawn until she had roused enough to follow the subdued pet to Jean’s room. And no crying since then, not even today during the funeral. If she were going to start crying again she wanted to wait until she was inside, alone and safe in her third floor room of.
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