I felt her vaginal muscles tighten and relax with each concurrent orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… fuck yes,” she screamed, the rest loss in a b...bble as another orgasm ripped through her body. I felt her drop her legs back down to the bed. With another scream that started as a loud moan she arched her back, her vaginal muscles pushing my fingers completely out, her pussy once again erupting in fountain of liquid. I rocked back up onto my knees and Ms. Betty lay in the bed, still writing after. The more he wrestled with it, the more he could not let it go. After an hour of sitting exposed to the pigeons’ rectal bombings in his three thousand dollar suit—though he was lucky enough to not find himself the target on this not so pleasant evening—Travis came to the conclusion that he would ask Karen about it tonight. He would go back, open an expensive bottle of wine, then ‘pop the question’. Something helped him wonder why he was making such a big deal about it, but he told that impish. More

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