If I were ill, I would close me eyes and imagine more pleasant sensations, like lying on the beach and listening to the waves crash on the shore. When...my husband was suffering with the worst of his cancer and even the morphine wasn't helping much, I would take him on a mental journey with me to our cabin retreat. I would help him to hear the water splashing across the stones, the birds calling, the wind whistling through the trees and it would ease him until he could sleep.This morning, when I. He just kept pounding and pounding me in a brutal way. His balls were slapping my asshole, while I screamed and moaned.He asked if I liked his black dick; but I could not answer.Then he threw me on the bed and as I was trying to catch my breath, he lifted my ankles up to his broad shoulders and fucked me missionary, very hard and fast again.He put his heavy hand around my throat lightly and then he started pounding me really in a very brutal and angry way…All of a sudden I felt him blowing his. More

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