C95 The Haunted Fuck House (2)

My underwear was next to go, and no amount of cursing or pulling at the waistband was about to stop it. So there I was, pinned to the sofa, with no idea what was going to happen next, my underwear hanging down around my ankles. ‘Was this how the authorities were going to find me in the morning,’ I thought. It’s funny what your mind thinks under intense stress