He’d see her here or there, parties and premieres, but their interactions were limited and brief, far too brief, for Pierre. At night, alone in his ...ead, she was his. He’d push her down on his bed, as she writhed, resistant beneath him, he’d press himself into her, listening to her sighs and squeals, deeper and deeper into her depths, kissing her neck, her breasts, tongue on her collarbone, licking lower, salty sweat, squirming pressure, he’d grab her wrists, call her a slut, and continue his. She must have not had enough. Her moans turned to screams to muffled sounds of gaging. She was being spit roasted again. She was cursing, moaning and making ungodly sounds. There was no filter, and you could hear crystal clear. I lit another cigarette, I figured this was going to take a while. I shook my head as I figured she mounted the big boy. But these guys didn’t stand a chance, it just took a few minutes.Knock knock. From the left.Knock knock. From the right.I was so surprised that I. More

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