Hot Outdoor Posing

Layla goes to our gym and is always posing to us after her shower so hot and such a tease.

I love fucking and jerking off with my dolls. They hang around looking so hot, I can't keep my hands off them. I pose and grope them and my cock gets hard over and over. I end up blowing 5 or 6 loads a day sometimes, and I'm an old guy now. Sometimes I have to hide them in the other room and stay away from them a few days to build up again. Wow are they fun. No bitching, complaining or needing things from me either. Fuck them anytime you want. I recommend them for everyone, especially the older guys. Sometimes I'll leave them spread out on the kitchen table and put my cock in them on the way to get a beer, just cause I can. Can't beat it.

I confess, I fucked a secretary in our company. Sylvia is a smoking hot cougar. She has an incredible body for a woman her age and takes very good care of herself. She never had any kids, so I guess that makes it easier. She also has a very classy yet sexy way of dressing for work everyday.

She is as sweet as can be. Always smiling, eager to be helpful in any way she can. One of those positive spirits that, coupled with her stunning looks, makes you want to fuck her. And yes, I have masturbated in the men's room a time or two because looking at Sylvia got me so horny.

We have worked in the same company for 10 years, so we know each other pretty well and are quite comfortable with each other. Our interactions were always professional. I said "were".

I heard from other guys in the office that Sylvia is a crazy flirt. She was never flirtatious with me, maybe because I am one of the big bosses. And because sexual harassment lawsuits are so common, I have never wanted to cross the line into unprofessionalism.

Well, I decided I'd experiment a little. I started to compliment Sylvia whenever she came into my office with something. I had to sign expense accounts and she often prepared them for the sales guys, so her visits to my office were almost daily, though very brief.

I'd say things like, "You look amazing today.", or "That is a stunning blouse you are wearing." or "I love those glasses." and "That hair style looks great on you."

She loved the compliments so much she started walking in and asking, "How do you like this shirt?" or "What do you think of this neckless?" Eventually, her questions got to "Do you think this is sexy?" and "Do you think this is hot looking?"

Then one day she took those daily exchanges to a whole new level. As she was walking out of my office, she turns her head, looking over her shoulder at me with her hand on her hip and asks, "Does my ass look good in these pants? I'm not wearing any panties." I just about dropped my teeth. She walked out with a devilish grin on her face.

From that day forward, she started to get more bold in her approach to me. A few days later she is wearing a white, button down shirt that is sheer enough that you can see she is wearing a lacy bra. She walks into my office, puts the expense reports in front of me on my desk and asks if I can sign them right away, as she waits. I, of course, comply.

As I'm looking over them, she leans over placing her hands on my desk and asks, "Do you like my neckless?"

I look up, and her neckless is hanging perfectly in front of the cleavage between her breasts and I can see right down her blouse at those magnificent tits. I smile ear to ear and nod gleefully. She asks, "Do you like anything else that you see?" All I can say is, "Oh yes." She then says, "I wore this shirt just for you today. The lacy bra is a little extra I threw in for your viewing pleasure." I can't stop smiling. I can feel my face getting beet red. She then turns and walks out with that devilish grin on her face again.

Later that day, I have to leave the building for a meeting. As I step out of my office she says, "Are you leaving for the day?" I tell her yes and she follows me to the elevator. When the elevator door opens, it is empty and the two of us step in. When the doors close, she turns and plants a passionate, lingering kiss on my lips. The door to the elevator opens and she exits saying, "Have a nice day." with that devilish grin again. I am blown away and she is all I can think about for the rest of the day and night.

I'm an early bird and always get to the office by 6 am, way before anyone else does. It's my most productive time of the day before others start arriving by 7:30 am and fills up by 9:00 am. Everybody in the office knows my routine.

The morning after the elevator kiss, I'm in by 6 am as usual. About 6:15, I hear the unusual sound of another person entering the office. I hear the elevator bell. I hear the sound of footsteps on the hard lobby floor. I could hear some shuffling at a cubicle common to one arriving for work. I note that it is unusual so early but keep working at my computer that faces away from my door.

The next thing I hear is "Good Morning" in the sweetest, seductive tone. It is Sylvia at my office door. I turn around in utter shock. There she stands in my doorway wearing one of those wrap around dresses that is propped open by her hand on her hip as she leans on the doorway with her opposite shoulder. It was the most seductive, sexy pose. She is wearing the sexiest lace bra and panties. Her tits are huge. I am speechless.

Without saying a word, she walks in, closes my door, turns off the light, walks behind my desk, spins me around in my office chair, kneels down in front of me and starts undoing my belt and pants. By this time, my cock is rock hard. As soon as she pulls it out of my pants, she goes down on me. Once soaked in her spit, she draws back, unsnaps her bra at the clip between her tits, and starts giving me a titty fuck while looking up at me.

No words have been spoken. The only sound is heavy breathing and moans. Once done with the titty fuck, she stands, turns around facing away from me, lifts her dress to expose her ass, reaches around to pull her panties to the side, and lowers herself down on to my cock.

The sensation of her pussy fucking my cock was amazing. I've never seen a woman get so wet. My cock is quickly covered with her creamy wetness. I can't believe this is happening to me.

I whisper, "I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum." She quickly stands up, turns around, drops to her knees in front of me, looks into my eyes and says, "Cum in my mouth." Down she goes and boom, I explode in her mouth.

She took every drop of cum and kept sucking until I was drained. When it was clear I was finished and my cock already starting to soften, she stands up, straightens up her panties and bra, quickly closes the wrap around dress as if nothing had just happened, looks at me and says, "I like a certain kind of cream in my coffee. Now that I've had it, can I bring you a cup?" I nod in agreement, she turns to walk out, blowing me a kiss.

I have "ignored ASD44_45, but his fucking posts keep coming through when I log in. ANyone know why ignore doesn't block his pics.

He ysed to post hot pics now its 300 to 500 pics of the same girl in slightly different poses. A total waste of bandwidth.

She is hot in bed. She is expert to give all the poses of kamsutra of vatsayan. She orgasm atleast thrice in one session.

Sister posing hot body. Guys what would u do to my sister? She loves sucking dick and eating cum.

I need to share this because i can't think straight anymore. I confess, i am not a proper single mommy with only her kid on her mind. I've been lusting for 2 weeks now. Finally, after a long while of being celibate i found someone i want to explode with. I waited this long because i wanted it to be very special. I tried my best to stay strong but i can not anymore, i need human interaction. I will rape if i can't have what i want. I don't just want to be fucked, i want to fuck someone so bad they will faint. I want to faint too. I want damn violent nasty sex in all holes. Last guy fainted, but he turned a creepy guy after that wouldn't leave me alone. And the prick he begged for mercy, don't do that, fight me! It killed my libido. I hate desperate men.
But this time it will be better. I met this shy guy online and we haven't met in rl yet, but i know it'll be so good. Last few days have been hell, my pussy keeps leaking so bad i have to wear thick pantyliners, it's embarrassing. I can't wait to finally have a cock inside me again. I am aching for it so bad it actually hurts. I tried to pacify myself with toys, but it's just not good enough, i want a warm throbbing sword to cure my itch. I need it. I want to hold a hairy ass and thrust it into my loins. This guy told me he's in a mental facility, it turns me on even more, i hope he's a complete freakshow. I know that's bad, but i can't help it. I asked him to tell me more about himself, i fingered myself as i saw his texts trying to conceal he is a freak too. He will be in for a suprise alright. This tormenting arousal has turned me savage. I want him to strangle me, hurt me, rape my ass and have me suck wherever he pleases. I want to climb him like a mountain and grasp for air. I will ride him slowly, tease him with my tongue untill he bursts into insanity too and ravishes me like an animal. Oh god i want beastly sex. He's hot, seriously the man of my dreams. A little bit chubby with a belly button i would fuck if i had a penis, stubbled face nearly a beard, dark bodyhair, not tanned just natural, works on a farm, likes to get his hands dirty, he poses with a sigarette dangling from his lips... Just a good old fashioned manly man. I've never been that into anal but my rectum feels like prolapsing from wanting him inside me now. I hope he has dangling balls to choke me with. I want him to grab my hair and push my face in his furry groin. It will be 10 more days before we finally meet, he wants to know me better first... I'm playing along, acting coy, but damn he better not be hesitating too long or i will take my twitchy wet squishy cunt elsewhere. What is with men these days? Acting all timid when a girl gets straight to the point. I'm even traveling across the country to be fucked by him. I suggested a hotel, because i don't want his neighbours to gawk at him after i'm through with him. There will be a tub, i hope he tries to drown me and i want to swim in his cum. I want him so bad i'm going crazy. I'm not thinking of romance or a relationship, i just want a man that turns me desperate to touch again. A good man that will make me hunt him for more.

Hot! I would pose cfnm with her

I confess that I missed a great opportunity today. Walking around down town, I saw this hotass milf of an older woman taking pics of another woman that looked like her sister or older daughter with the garden flowers in the background. She had nealt down to get a nice pic and that allowed me to get a great shot down her shirt as I waited for her to get the pic before crossing her path. She smiled and thanked me for not ruining her picture as so many other had done. I smiled back thinking, no thank you and went on my way.

About twenty minutes later, I came across them in another part of the park as I was leaving. I walked by and turned my head to watch as they took turns taking each others pictures. I stopped for a second and thought what the fuck and walked back and asked if they wanted a picture together? They both said yes and the younger one gave me the camera. It was a nice dslr w zoom lens. They both posed next to each other. I pointed toward them and zoomed into their tits before taking the shot. They started to separate and I suggested more pics. They kept posing like models. They really got into it. After about 15 pics, I suggested they tease each other a little and they did. The final pic was them opening their shirts to expose serious cleavage and leaning in towards each other. I was starting to get hard, when the older one came up and took the camera. She handed it to the younger woman and said now she can take some pics of us. I thought hell yeah and moved in for a pic. The first one was clean two semi strangers standing near each other. I gently placed my arm around her waist and she mine. I figured she only wanted one, but the one with the camera pulled the same stunt I did and kept shooting. At this point, I now had a hot older woman damn near groping me for pics. And she was hot as fuck.

Straight staring at her tits, I ask if they were from around here. Miami, she replied. Let me tell you these were some hot Cuban ladies. Both wearing tight clothes that showed off their toned shapes and very low cut tops. I asked if they were sisters? They both laughed. I said mother and daughter? The younger one looked about 23-25 the older in her upper 40s so it was very plausible. They laughed again. I asked friends? both laughing said yes friends. I don't buy it. I think it was a mom/dau group. They were traveling from Miami and trolling the city.

I had just gotten off work and had about a 90 minute trip home and just took a walk around before hitting the road. Feeling that this could turn into something fun yet dangerous (in that I would be risking my current family life - which I presently enjoy) I said I had to go and walked away. All the way to my car I could only think that I had not been in a pick-up type situation since I picked up my wife 11 years ago. I guess the kids still got it; but just forgot how to finish the deal.

If you two for some reason see this ... I will walk through that park again tomorrow. I might be prone to stick around and show you some better places to get pictures.

Jamilla’s crucifixion

Jamilla was already awake when the sunlight entered her cell. After the Romans had captured her a week ago at the villa of her master, they had locked her up in there. They had stripped her and tied her up tightly, her hands behind her back, she was forced to sit here in this dark cell. She have had a lot of time to think about what has happened, and, more important, the things to come. At first she had been scared to death by the thought of being crucified, but right now she had found peace with it. Jamilla knew what she had done, and she also knew that she deserved nothing better. There was no doubt that, if she was to be killed, it would happen out there for every one to see. She was just to beautiful to let her die in here. After all she was the most beautiful girl in and around the city, In fact the thought of starving in here scared her even more than a public humiliation. Being tied up all the time and at least raped and tortured, imagine taht! No, no, all well considered, crucifixion was the best she could hope for. At least her pain would be over in a few days instead of years. She didn’t dare to think that the soldiers wouldn’t come for her.

But then the door opened and a couple of men gave entered her cell and removed the ropes from her hands and feet. Jamilla felt some sort of relief when she left the cell. They would not let her starve. Thus far she had been very lucky. It was only now that she realized that nobody had abused her until now. She wasn’t raped, she hadn’t been whipped. The fact of being nude don’t scare her, as a slave girl she has experienced this form of humilation many times, it was usual for the female to walk nude trough the city up tot he crucifixion side, while the men are allowed to wear a loincloth.

As they came out of the dark hallways into the inner yard of the camp, Jamilla spotted a long, thin, wooden cross lying on the ground. “Pick it up!” one of the soldiers said. Jamilla walked towards the cross and lifted it on her shoulder. There was no use in trying to resist, which would only make it worse for her. Two soldiers came standing next to her and one of them hung a wooden plate around her neck with her name, her age and her crime carved in it. Jamilla expected them to push her forward in to the streets of the city, but they didn’t. Both of the soldiers were looking at a little door behind them. As Jamilla looked at it as well, she saw an other soldier coming out with a hammer, a ladder and a basket with nails. Long heavy spikes…

“So it ’s going to be a full nailing” Jamilla said to herself. Until now she had hoped that they would only use ropes or at least only nail her hands, but as she could count more than two nails, she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. The soldier loaded the gear on a donkey and the other two gave Jamilla a gentile push on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” They said and the campgates opened.

Jamilla carried her cross through the narrow streets of the city. It wasn’t very heavy but despite the early hour the sun was already shining hot. As she came closer to the crucifixion site, more and more people were watching and following her, yelling things at her. She noted the views of the men, on her slim body, her well-shaped breasts, with the long nipples. Her master has pierced them years ago, she has to wear rings there, and the nipples has grown considerably. Except her long hair, her body has been shaved completely, even if the pubic hair has started to grow back, her crotch is visible for everyone.

“Look at you, you stupid basterds,” Jamilla said to herself “ shouldn’t you be working? No you just want to see me suffer, you want to hear me scream on the cross, you want to see the extreme fear in my eyes when they nail me to it. Well screw you! You think I’m afraid but I’m not, you think I’ll beg them for mercy, beg them not to nail my feet, but you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I won’t. In fact I’ll show you that it doesn’t scare me, I’ll show you how a proud girl faces her destiny!”

As she took the last turn to the marketplace, Jamilla felt this strange sensation in her underbelly. She knew she was walking her last few steps ever. On the market place, one of the soldiers gave the order to stop right in the middle of the square. She let her cross slip to the ground, took a few steps back and looked at the people that came to see her humiliation. One soldier held a hand on her shoulder and took back the wooden plate as the other one unpacked the gear. The third one began to declare her verdict and why she deserved it. During that time Jamilla realized that the strange feeling in her underbelly wasn’t fear as she thought it was, but pleasure. Her crotch has become wet, she noticed it. Every single person on the square wanted to see her young, nude body exposed on the cross. She knew she turned on every man that came to see her today, but none of them would ever have her. She would remain an unreachable ideal forever. She knew she could give them a spectacle they would never forget, that would make every other women look like durt.

Right now Jamilla realized that her time had come. The third soldier reached the end of his speech.

Jamilla knew what she had to do, she would show the crowd she was not afraid. Slowly she walked towards the cross, looking at the soldiers. Then she turned around, looked at he crowd and went lying down on her cross. Before one of the soldiers could grab her, she placed both of her wrists on the crossbeam, waiting for the nails.

The soldier that was going to nail her held back his two accompagnons. “No, no, don’t grab her. I want to see if she really can take this.” Jamilla looked at him as he put the first heavy spike right on top of her wrist. There was no one holding her wrists in place, yet she did not pulled them away, when the soldier raised his hammer for the first blow. Jamilla looked closely as the point of the first nail was driven into her wrist. “Aagh!” The pain was more than unbearable, it didn’t just stay in her wrist. Like water spilled on a flat stone, the pain started to run in various directions, all through her body. Yet the nail had only cut a few muscles and flesh. Right now he was only pushing on her wristbones, slightly driving them apart. As much as Jamilla was suffering, she couldn’t move her arms. She could only watch how the hammer came down a second time. This time the nail crushed her wristbones. Jamilla could feel the couldnes of the steel against her bones. Again she could not hold back a short scream. The pain had now turned into a supernatural form of agony. One of the soldiers who was standing next to the cross, noticed how Jamilla was rubbing her beautiful bare feet over the sand in a useless attempt to lighten the pain. Although the nail hadn’t reached the beam yet, she managed to keep her tortured wrist in place. Her most beautiful body was already covered with sweat when the hammer came down for the third time. Finally the nail came out of her wrist again and made his first contact with the crossbeam. Jamilla felt a bit relieved because she thought the wrist part was over. Once the nail was through, it would be easier to bare. But she was wrong. The hardness of the wood made it very hard to finish the job. The executioner needed six more blows to get her wrist fully nailed to the beam, every blow causing Jamilla more and more pain in addition to the already unbearable agony…

At the first blow, Jamilla had pulled back her second wrist. “Aagh!” A short scream escaped her mouth every time the nail went deeper. Finally the last blow was given and the executioner stood up. Shortly he admired his work, then he walked over to the other side of the beam to nail her other wrist. Jamilla didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed not to cry. Although only one of the four nails was in place, she was already covered with sweat. She looked at her unnailed wrist once more, then she placed it on the crossbeam as she saw the executioner approached with the second nail. He looked at her beautiful young face while he went across her wrist with his fingers to locate the bones. When he found the right spot, he place the nail on it, held his hammer high up in the sky. Then he waited for a moment to see if Jamilla really wouldn’t pull down her arm now that she knew what it felt like to have one nailed wrist. Then he started his horrible job.

Jamilla thought she knew what she had to expect, but no one could ever get used to a sudden explosion of pure pain like that. Again her short screams filled the air, again her beautiful bare feet rubbed against the sand, but yet the agony seemed like at least a thousand times worse. Again she felt how the nail crushed some of her bones and drove others apart. It was in this pure sensation of nothing-but-absolute-agony- that Jamilla realized something strange. With every blow she screamed her little “AaAgh’s” as a message to every one on the square that she couldn’t take it any more. But now she realized, as her pain reached a new, horrible peak with every other blow that she wanted more. Though the agony made it quite impossible to keep her wrist in place, as long as the nail hadn’t pinned it to the wood, Jamilla realized she was able to do so, because she loved it. From this moment one, she could kill and love the executioner for what he was doing to her at the same time. She hated and admired him because he was able of hurting her like this. Though her agony reached unknown hights with every blow, she couldn’t wait for the next one. She watched closely how the nail disappeared deeper into her wrist and into the wood. When the executioner stood up after the nailing, Jamilla felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her body was under tension, shivering, excited, despite the heat her nipples remain hard all the time, and she notes that her juice has started to leak.

Jamilla looked at her beautiful nude body as the soldiers made preparations to pull up the cross. With her arms spread out like this above her head and her legs a bit opened to feel the sand under her feet for the last time, both her beautiful small breasts with their long and hard nipples and shaven pubic were exposed to the crowd. Yet Jamilla felt no shame, she felt only pain and a deep desire for more pain. Two soldiers were tying ropes to both ends of the crossbeam while the third one was placing some small pieces of wood at the bottom of the longpole so that the cross wouldn’t slide over the sand when they tried to raise it. Then they attached the ropes to their donkey as well. Then the executioner kneeled down at Jamilla’s feet. He grabbed them by the ankles and measured the length of her legs. He placed her feet on the longpole, right next to each other, so that her legs were slightly bent. He looked at it, changed the pose a bit, released her feet and carved a little bit of wood out of the pole, where he wanted her feet to be when he nailed them. Jamilla had observed his actions very well. For a moment she thought he was going to nail her feet before they raised the cross. She had loved the feeling of his hand around her feet. The two soldiers made the donkey pull up the cross while the executioner made sure the longpole would slip into the hole that was dug for it. As they raised her cross and her feet left the ground for the last time, Jamilla felt how her weight was no longer carried by the thin longpole but only by the two spikes that pierced her wrists. She had to scream. Little yelps of both extreme agony and pleasure escaped her mouth while the donkey was raising her cross. As her cross was almost in a complete vertical position, Jamilla spotted the carve made by the executioner to indicate the intended position of her feet. While the soldiers were making sure the cross wouldn’t fall back if they cut the ropes, Jamilla tried out her final footpose. With her feet against the longpole and her legs opened widely because of the roundness of the longole, she decided that it was both a humiliating and an exciting pose. Jamilla looked at her elegant ankles and her adorable toes. Soon her most beautiful feet would be nailed. To feel once more the pain of really hanging on a cross, she moved her legs away from the longpole, so that they were just hanging on either side of it. Now the executioner placed his ladder against the cross and climbed up to fulfill his duty.

As the executioner reached the final step of the ladder, Jamilla lowered her left foot and placed it right on the spot the executioner wanted it to be. He put the nail right on the most central spot of her foot, slightly adapted its pose so that the toes were really pointing towards the ground. Then he began the nailing. Once again Jamilla experienced a wave of fresh agony running through her body. Again she felt how the nail pushed against the bones of her foot and crushed them with the second blow. Again she let out her little yells every time the nail went a bit deeper. Even when the nail entered the wood after the third blow, she didn’t dare to put any weight on it. Her foot was causing her the same amount of agony as both her wrists. Oooh, she loved crucifixion right now; She thanked the people that invented this heavenly torture from the bottom of her heart as the final blows were given. As the executioner finished the nailing of her left foot, Jamilla felt a bit sad. Now her other foot was the only thing left. After that, her agony would slowly fade away … So she put her other foot right next to her nailed one. The executioner brought out the last nail. Jamilla closed her eyes as her bully raised his hammer. Very intensely she tried to analyze the waves of pain that were caused by the final spike. As the bones of her right foot were crushed she couldn’t hold back a small yelp. Also when she felt how the nail tore the skin of here sole apart, she simply had to release a little “ Ôah!” As the nail was driven further into her foot and the wood of the longpole, Jamilla first realized she was being put to death in the most cruel, horrible and agonizing way known in the whole of the Roman Empire, and that she just loved it. The soldier smashed the nail a bit deeper for the last time. Then he went down a few steps and nailed the wooden plate that quoted Jamill’s crime, name and age to the longpole, right underneath her beautiful, nailed feet. “Jamilla, twenty one year old, blonde slave, murder, theft and arson.” Then he stepped down, took away his ladder and together with one of his fellows he went back to the camp. The third one staid to guard Jamilla so that no one would get her down of there.

Although it had seamed a lot longer, her crucifixion had only taken half an hour. Now most of the spectators resumed their work on the market. For Jamilla, the real horror of crucifixion was about to begin. Right now she realized that the pain in her wrists became too much to bare, even for someone who loved it, so Jamilla had to push up on her feet. Putting her entire weight on the nails piercing her feet caused her a wonderful amount of pain, yet she had to let go, if she didn’t want to faint, and she fell back on her wrists. But very soon, again, the pain in her wrists forced her to retry the push up. The Romans had spiked her in a very ingenious way. By bending her legs just a little bit, Jamilla had to face the problem where to put her weight, but she couldn’t suffocate that easy. As she looked around to see what the other people who had watched her crucifixion were doing. Some people were still looking at her, pointing out to each other how well she was nailed. Jamilla herself was also admiring the work of her bully. While she was at it, she saw that she wasn’t bleeding as much as she thought. The only blood Yamilla saw was the blood that had run out of the wounds when the nails were still driven in. Meanwhile the soldier that staid behind walked over to the fountain and took a drink. He didn’t return to the cross but went strait to one of the stalls on the market. He decided to watch over her from there, in the shadow. On the cross, Jamilla was exposed to the sun. Very slowly her bronzed skin was burning. As she saw the guard take a drink, Jamilla became aware of her own thirst. She wondered whether she could ask for some water as well. After a while her thirst became so big she decided to risk it. “Can…can I have some water to, please…?” she moaned. The guard fulfilled her request and put a cup filled with water on the top of his spear. Jamilla drunk it all and asked for more several times, especially around noon when the sun was burning every drop of liquid out of her.

Jamilla now realized that the pain wasn’t fading away at all. She didn’t know why but the spikes kept hurting her as much as they did when they were driven into place. She looked once more to the nails piercing her body. As she could clearly feel, al four of them were smashed through some bones. “I wonder…” she thought. Jamilla tried to move her fingers, but some of them didn’t react to her command. Also her toes weren’t completely movable. The sight of the spikes entering her feet and wrists fascinated her. Jamilla tried to reach the head of the nails in her wrists. Her fingers could only touch the top of the nails. Her excitement still remains, and her crotch has started to leak, she notes the liquid running down the lips, and the it drops down to the sand.

As the sun went down and the market became empty, Jamilla first realized she would never leave her cross again. Even her corpse would be left up there after she died. She wondered what it would be like, if she died. Would she pass out and never awake again? She didn’t know.

Jamilla’s first night on the cross was filled with agony. There was now way of getting some sleep up there. If the pain didn’t keep her awake, then the coldness of the night would make sure she didn’t sleep. The hours passed slowly, way to slowly, but when Jamilla finally thought she was used to it, the first rays of sunlight announced a new day….

As the market became crowded again, people returned to her cross to see how she was doing. "You 're realy enjoying this, aren't you?" Jamilla managed to ask her public. Of course they did. "Guess what," Jamilla moaned as a reply, "so do I..."

According to some spectators who had seen a few crucifixions already, Jamilla was “dancing” real nice. She was pushing herself up on the spikes piercing her feet and falling back on her wrists al the time. Even if she didn’t had to push up to get some fresh air, she still forced herself to do so. It largely increased her pain. It was her second day on the cross, but Jamilla felt far from exhausted. Now she knew why she hadn’t been raped or whipped: If she were still strong when they nailed her to her cross, she would last longer. Once again Jamilla looked at her beautiful body. The nails fascinated her, how they disappeared in her wrists and feet. Only four nails, but they put her in hell. Right now the thought crossed her mind that despite of the fact that she had been drinking quite a lot yesterday, she didn’t have to pee. The sun burned away every single drop of liquid, even the water from the fountain. In the afternoon, Jamilla felt how she was becoming weaker and weaker, how the pain slowly faded. Right now she wished she could live through it al again, from the cell, to the first nail, the moment of triumph when she exposed her completely nude body to the overwhelmed crowd, the nailing of her wrists and feet, her complete crucifixion. Later that day Jamilla lost conscience. She didn’t saw how a rich salesman paid of the guarding soldier and ordered his men to get Jamilla down from her cross. She didn’t even realized the nails were pulled out.

Jamilla looked out of the window as the sun came up. Six months had passed since her crucifixion. Her wounds had completely healed. The salesman had dropped her of at one of his houses in a small village while she was still unconscious. An other girl slave had told her everything. She had never seen him until now. He was standing in the inner yard, saying goodbye to someone. Then he entered Jamilla’s room. “You’re so beautiful” he said. “You’re so beautiful that you can ask me anything. Ask me and I’ll do it!” Jamilla looked at him as he touched her face. “Well, there is one thing you could do…” She answered.

Later that morning, the entire village watched how Jamilla publicly undressed herself. Completely nude, she walked over to the cross and went lying down on it. She smiled at the salesman as he approached with the hammer and the nails. “Nail me!” she said.