The girl sat quietly embarrassed by the tirade, clearly wishing she had said nothing about it. The taste of her own blood was bitter in her throat. She seemed relaxed, almost serene, and we chatted as if we hadn't had a chance to talk in ages. All of the women wore them where I grew up. They were lying on the bed, kissing and fondling each other while he looked at pictures in a photo album. He did not stroke into her penetrated lips, but slowly rolled his hips, causing the member to brush back and forth against the sensitive tissues of her tongue and palate. This attack, this assault on her senses had truly reduced her to an animal with only a single need, a single hunger. Without mercy, she teased me, holding back what I wanted so badly while I lay there like a slut offering everything. He dragged her by one arm to the bed and tossed her down on it. This was something different. |