Now where was the fooking tent?Benchley headed up the slope of a nearby hill, but still couldn't find his tent in the deepening gloom. There was no wa... he was going to find the bugger, he thought. It looked like he was going to be stuck out in the open with the rain pissing down on him.Why hadn't he stayed at home to watch the footie?Maybe he could find shelter higher up, he thought. There was plenty of bare rock exposed to the elements. Must be an overhang he could shelter under.He found. Marcus placed his right hand firmly on her thigh. His fingers indented her soft flesh. “I bruise easily.” Michelle snapped. He softened his grip. “What’s in it for me?” “Why does there have to be something for you in this?” she asked. “You may have sucked my cock to get your way last time but that won’t cut it this time.” His right hand remained on her knee as he lightly reached for the clasp of the zipper on her dress. Michelle looked down at his fingers. She raised her head slowly, a. More

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