Jessica was going to die by hanging in one week. They went to the court house together, she announced the decision to the Judge, and a date was set for her execution. "Jessica Ann Collins, one week from today, on Friday, the 10th day of May, you will report to Kennedy Park at 11:00 AM, at which time you will be hanged by the neck until you are dead. May God have mercy on your soul." The judge’s clerk gave Jessica a large envelope containing several brochures, which he told her to read before the following Friday. Again, she was free to go, until the appointed date. Again, they japanese walked home, but the situation had changed and she felt different this time, more resolute, more accepting, her fear of dying amateur at least partially alleviated by the reassurance of Jason's strong arm around her waist. At the same time, she was suffering from a guilty conscience because there was a part of her that quivered in anticipation, that actually desired the fate that awaited her in one week. The deeply-buried corner of her psyche that viewed her sentence as the culmination of years of hidden fantasies ... She had been quite young; her frank, uninhibited sexuality had been as yet uncharted territory. She was somewhat interested in the opposite sex and many of her friends and acquaintances were actually sexually active, but she preferred to spend her time dancing. She had studied since an early age: ballet, jazz, and modern. She was considered to be quite talented, though at only 5 feet 1 inch, she was too short to be a dancer. A knee injury when she was 16 ended her dance career. During a school assignment, Jessica discovered some art work on women being executed. Several hanging scenes were fascinating to her. Jessica's mind had just exploded as her imagination flooded with images, questions, and fantasies, the cleft between her legs to flooding as well. How would that feel? What would it be like to watch that? What if it was me?! She had had her first orgasm that night, several orgasms, actually. She had become obsessed, feverishly seeking any information, any material she could get her hands on. But she never told anybody about it, because she knew it was shameful, forbidden. She had learned that hanging was neither an easy or pretty way to go. She had learned that hanging victims usually took a long time to die, sometimes over a half hour, at least until the late nineteenth century. Compelled to experience their agonies, she had wrapped a sash around her neck and pulled it tight, tighter, as tight as she could; her throat had spasmed from the awful pressure and her lungs had burned with hunger for air before she finally had to let go. She had come violently afterwards, as she imagined what it would be like to strangle again, this time with her hands tied behind her back. And so she grew into a strikingly beautiful young woman: a lithe dancer's body, slender with firm athlete’s breasts. She had accepted the fact that her body was unsuitable for professional dance, maintaining her interest in dance on a recreational basis while making her living as a teacher. And she had developed an easy, confident sexuality -- fueled by the darkest of fantasies. And now, in one week's time, her deepest, darkest desires would be realized, by her own decision. Had she chosen as she had for the right reasons? Or was she depriving her husband of his wife, bereaving her own daughter, just to fulfill some sick fantasy? Intellectually, she was sure that her choice was the only right one. But on a deeper level, she was far from certain. She resolved that she would tell her husband everything before it was too late. The week went by too quickly. She stayed at home, doing everything she could think of to soften the blow to Jason and Emily. On the Monday before her final day, she visited the town’s largest Cemetery and purchased a gravesite for herself. The salesman knew that she would be lying in the grave in just a asian week. This was awesome! It really is kind of attractive in its own way…a kind of manly way I guess. Suddenly a wet popping sound is clearly heard as Katie hisses and moans. I was not at all used to this feeling of being exposed and helpless. Another burst of laughter rippled through the crowd. Just the thought of being fucked by all the frat brothers made her pussy flow with her vaginal juices. It didn’t take long, but by the time I’d finished he was hard again. I get more ass than a toilet seat! I rang again and waited, my body shifting erratically to cope with the harsh conditions. The torture was the worst pain I’ve experienced, and being raped was the most psychologically damaging, but this tops the billboard for humiliation. With a smooth one-two she untied and unzipped, giving Bobby’s hand total access. Again she japanese pulled me away; this time fully from her warm wet mouth. After a minute she makes a frustrated sound asian and shucks the tight panties off with amateur both hands, tucking her knees up as they go down her legs and over her feet.