Both of us needed a shower. I got up. Getting Sarah up was more difficult. First, she didn’t want to move, and was, in fact, still experiencing wh...t she called “little cums.” Second, she was exhausted and limp, like a wet dish cloth. I held her up as best I could as we made our way to the shower. Cum and pussy juice ran down the inside and back of Sarah’s legs all the way to her ankles and the floor; her lips were bruised and swollen from our passionate kissing; her pussy was red and wet;. The dark clothes I was wearing pretty much hid me in the night, and my soft-soled shoes made no sound as I stepped onto the porch and eased the door open. Stepping inside I heard a deep male voice, "Hey bitch, where the hell is my Dago?" I heard the meaty thunk of a hand or fist on flesh. "Now get the fuck back to the kitchen and get it!" I saw a bottle of red wine was on the counter, already opened.I jumped over to it, unstoppering the muscle relaxant as I went and poured some in. I hoped it. More

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