She was still wearing her shirt, so I told her to stop for a second and take it off. She did, giving me a big 'ol grin. She threw it across the room, ...hen sat me down on the bed. She kept suckin', and I played with her gigantic titties. I never was a tit man, but I think mayber that was 'cause all my other girlfriends had small-ass titties. These things reminded me of what my pop always called 'em; Dirty Pillows. That's exactly what they were. Big 'ol dirty, fleshy, utterly fuckable titties. I. He looked closely at her face, the shine had gone from her makeup when the skin below it died. Asleep. Little girl's asleep. Except for the awful whiteness. Dead whiteness. Her small breasts had remained perky and defiant, too small, not enough flesh to succumb to gravity’s pull. Her legs shapely and straight out. The dark bush of hair at her groin, seductive, sexy. Her second set of lips, pink, inviting. Ian could smell the aroma of her dead pussy and he had to have some. It had been awhile. More

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