How could I be eighteen? I must be twenty-five. I was born in 1965. It is is now 1992, and in October I will be 26. I started counting backward in my ...ream. When I hit the ground my breasts flopped out of my tee shirt. I felt as if I had split open, divided. I was full, pregnant, about to burst. My legs trembled, and I needed to touch myself, but then I restrained my hand. 2. When I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I remembered this cell. The walls were cinderblock. There was one window covered. As I had emptied my balls she thought I would be a bit calmer sexually. She warned me of the perils about what I was doing regarding exposing my cock to women. She told me a lot of women would take it offensively and report me. A very wise older woman who was young enough to understand young peoples urges. It never stopped me but it was a fucking good attempt! I still have the odd wank over her p**ing pussy mmmmmm. The voyeurism started around the time my masturbation started. I was delivering. More

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