He holds me down firmly against the futon matress tossed careless onto the floor in the basement.
It smells faintly musty from disuse. Fear is making me struggle against him. My hips rocking up and pressing against his stomach. This serves to push him further and his hand tangles in my hairn yanking hard and making me gasp.
Nipples erect and rubbing against the rough and dusty cover. I know my wetness gives me away, my clit is hard and trembling with anticipation.
He pushes his hardness into my softness and claims my pleasure for his own. Two hard strokes and I am crying out as my orgasm shakes me.
More, harder, please.
Sent wirelessly from my BlackBerry device on the Bell network.
Envoyé sans fil par mon terminal mobile BlackBerry sur le réseau de Bell.
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