I met a molester for the first time in my life. The first time was on her way to the hospital, and the second time was in front of her husband. Even though her husband was right in front of her, I couldn't wake him up from his sleep. I couldn't even stop her overflowing love juice, and I was exhausted by her molester's fingers. I don't like it, why do I feel this way? I couldn't forget the pleasure of being molested, and before I knew it, I began to fantasize about being molested...
