She stood on her tiptoes, but to no avail. Eventually she was hanging by her neck, the rope closing in on her windpipe and blood flowing to her brain....he pain was terrible at first. Her body twisted and her feet, which were not tied, began flaying in a subconscious effort to find something solid. It was the dance of the hanged. Her movements only served to tighten the noose. Then, as brain became starved for oxygen and blood, she began hallucinating. The orgasmic explosion was the most powerful. "We find the harder sex to be too ... hard." She glanced at my tumescence, which had subsided a bit but remained there if one looked for it. All the women glanced down.Suddenly the beautiful Indian knelt in front of me. "The fickle finger of fate," she proclaimed. "Do you mind?" she asked Michelle. Without getting an answer, she touched my cock. It quickly pressed harder on the fabric of my shorts."It looks to be all man," the luscious scientist concluded. "A mind of its own surrounded by. More

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