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I (f / 39) met a really nice guy, I am madly in love with him. At the moment, he's in prison for murder.
I know he bitterly regrets that he strangled his ex girlfriend after a huge fight and he suffers that he took a life of a human being.
It is expected that he will be released from prison this summer. I fell in love with him and I am ready to help him build up a new life, with me.
Of course, all of my friends and my son (19) are shocked warn me that I might be the next victim on his list.
Now my son issued an ultimatum. If I want to continue visiting the man, he will move out and he won't talk to me again. Now I should immediately choose my son over a murder but it's very hard for me because I like this man so much and I know that he has a lot of good qualities and features.
I am sorry that I am in love with a murder.
I married a much older woman, very active in crafting, quilting, sewing, and not very affectionate or loving, due to childhood trauma which she never would discuss, except in the vaguest terms. She never was interested in sex, but felt that a certain minimal attention to her "investment" was required. As I gradually revealed the depths of my obsession with total-enclosure confinement, she discovered that this had an addictive pleasure for her damaged psyche, and she participated with staggering cooperation and enthusiasm, exploring the limits of such behavior methodically and mercilessly. We live in an old rambling house, with many alterations over the years, and the den I turned into a sewing room for her, contained an alcove about eight feet by four, with a door-sized opening into it. At her insistence, I turned it into a sound-proof cell, with a wrought-iron 'barred' door, under a heavy sound-proofed outer door, into the sewing room. And there I lived, permanently, with a small mattress, a chair, and a bucket. There were various methods of totally enclosing me, from total sensory deprivation leather helmets, locked in place, to strait-jackets, full-head ex-Russian Army gas-masks, with or without sight, and with brass valves epoxied into the filter receptacle, as a substitute for the rubber hose that had dangled from the 'snout' to loose-fitting latex suits with attached hoods, feet and mittens. Once zipped up the back to the neck, and down the back of the hood so the metal tags met, and could share a brass padlock, they were inescapable. So she sewed and quilted, with her new-age music, as I stood at the barred door, often in forced silence, sometimes tied to it, with my goodies protruding through the bars, waiting for her to take a 'break' and torture me with lengthy orgasm denial, driving me to the point of insanity, with need to come, before going back to her 'work' leaving me in silent, agonizing frustration, until the next 'break'! This was fascinating stuff for a masochistic bondage freak like me, and when I was able to speak, I told her how much I loved and appreciated her, which made her quite girlish! Months went by, in agonies of orgasm delay and denial, and any time I got out, to carry out some chores, or get showered, she threatened me with a stun gun, until I resumed my 'rightful' position. Then one day her mother arrived to visit, at the age of about seventy-five, and I was shut away behind the soundproof door. Until suddenly it opened, and I was introduced to the white-haired harridan, who soon made it plain she thought her daughter was much too easy-going with me, and encouraged her to go off to a quilting festival out of state, leaving me at the tender mercies of this dreadful old woman! She was incredibly horny, still! She took me to her bed, in the guest room, strait-jacketed, and raped me over and over, my mouth filled with her tobacco-tasting tongue, her spry old body moving on top of me in slow intense, endless couplings, which she controlled by threat, into the length of time that satisfied her. To make a long story short, she moved in permanently, and her daughter told her she could do what she wanted with me, as it was all too much trouble for her, anyway! They're reading this over my shoulder, approvingly, and now it's time to return to my cell.
My husband is in prison for beating me. I visited once and said I forgave him and brought a sexy video. He smiled and said he loved me. I played a video of me sucking our best man's cock first then I hold the camera and say I love gagging on cum. I'm going to let your best friend fuck my tight ass in the parking lot. Think about his huge cock pounding your wifes pussy!
Then he sat beside me and said he should see her rub it. She asked if he likes seeing her hold dick. He asked her to not do this and she smiled then said she likes how she doesn't get beat up anymore unless daddy's dick punished her then hand me the phone. He begs me to stop but I tell him we paid the guard to not stop us. Now you are going to watch your wife get a mouth filled with cum. He watched us then cried and apologized. She picked up the phone and said he is a coward and she never loved him. Think about my tight body getting fucked while you rot in here. So hot
I'm very disappointed at my father to say the least.. I wish he would get arrested coz i know prison is the only place that can save him from himself.
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