He preferred making love from the front so that he could look down at Heather’s face beneath his outstretched supporting arms. He liked to thrust in...slowly and steadily at first, pulling his penis almost free from her vagina and then plunging it deep inside again. He liked to gradually build up his thrusts into a faster and more urgent rhythm, which was Heather’s cue to vent forth those urgent whimpering gasps for which she was so grateful there were no party walls between her and her. "Don't you dare."His hands were up and mere inches away from my chest."So how big are they?" he asked again and he put both hands on my chest and squeezed me hard."Stop it, stop it," I cried."So tell us and I'll stop," he laughed and he squeezed me again."Please don't," I whimpered, I was completely broken."So?" he said."I'm a 'C' cup," I whispered."What's that?" he shouted, "a 'C' cup." Please," I whimpered my head down in shame."Fucking ace," said one of his cronies, "Blakie's got 'C' cup. More

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