Hairbrush

It was of hearing the workings of her body go on around me, the steady beat of her heart and the gurgling of her stomach. But through it all, I had this feeling of security and being safe, even though I was tossed about as she got up, laid down or sat in a chair. I lost track of time but eventually she laid down, her heart beat slowly slowing down as if she was going to sleep. But suddenly it sped up again, as if she was working out or something. It dawned on me what she was doing, about the only thing someone could do laying down that would raise your heart rate. What I didn't expect though was a hair brush handle to come barging into my temporary home, the thick piece of molded plastic getting thrust in and out hard and fast. I was scared for my life, hopping she wouldn't push it into far and crush me against her cervix. I started to beat my fist against her walls, which only resulted in a sharp moan of ectasy as her hips started to buck, tossing me around. By this time, I was covered in her juices, so I figured if I would get crushed, there was nothing I could do. So I once again started jacking off, the handle bumping against my back from time to time. Before I could bust though, her walls came crushing on as a scream of pleasure blasted through her body. As her heart rate slowed, I wondered what else she would shove into her body as the week went by.