You sense my frustration, know what I want, what I need. Cold metal against my abdomen, a slight ripping sound, and you have cut my thong from my body... Now as I lay completely exposed at the very edge of the couch, I arch upwards again, seeking that tongue, wanting its return. Again I whimper, a shiver running through my body. My need is obvious, my lips parted, swollen and slick, aching. Again warm breath, tentative lapping, then long, slow strokes from my rosebud upwards to my clit, again and. "You are hard, aren't you, you dog?"That was Sean. He called people "Dog" whenever when he wanted to encourage and applaud them, and called them "Bitch" when he wanted to shame them into doing something."Fuck you. I said. Your tiny dick is hard too." I said with a c***dish tone that sounded like "I know you are but what am I?" Can't lie, I am. That Bailey Jay is a National Fucking Treasure. I would love to cum all over that face. Have you ever paused and walked up to the TV and came on her. More

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