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I could feel every pulse of his massive cock as he pumped away vigorously, feeling his hands exploring my body.“Such a fucking slut!” I hear him say, instantly I feel offended and realize I don’t recognize the voice. At that moment I realize the previous was a dream and the growled words had woken me from my sleep.“What the hell is going on!?! Who are you!?” I manage to say, thoroughly shocked at the realty as I try to push this thing off of me. To my surprise I can’t, my arms are tied down, I can’t tell by what. The restraints are loose enough to give me hope of a struggle but short enough to squash them. It’s dark enough I can’t make out who this person is, or what they even look like, only enough moonlight from a window to see a silhouette of a figure ... I hear him chuckle deeply as he rams himself further into my opening.“STOP!! W-w-why are you doing this??!”, I notice my legs aren’t bound. So I try to move them in a manner to force him off of me but he just buries himself. Whether she liked it or not, that phase of her life was a part of her; it had informed every decision she had made since then. She was a different person because she had once been left broken, half of herself torn away, and succumbed to the hopelessness of the situation. She was a different person because she had succumbed and then risen up again. It was part of who she was. I am Danielle Mayer; David Glass is my other half—heck, it was still part of who she was! David wanted to tap into that, wanted her to be whole with him—which she wanted too, to be certain—but could he handle the costs that came with it? ... Did David feel the same way? Did he feel that she was his other half? He had moved on with startling alacrity, or so it seemed to her. She could only assume that he didn't, and that the burden would terrify him ... Well, maybe it wouldn't; he seemed fully committed, and in a good way. But the thing was, she could never find out. She could never ask him. If she told him, and.
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