I walked up the stairs, the cries growing louder and louder. There was a woman's loud shrieks, a man's low grunts, a bedsprings creaking. “Ride my c...ck,” Mark's muffled voice came through the wall. He was fucking one of his jogging sluts. “Oh, god, your cunt's the best.” I stopped, Mark's words freezing me in place. Who's cunt was that best? I thought my cunt was, Mark. Fear suddenly clenched at my stomach, destroying the hope I was feeling. I stopped at the bedroom door, my hand on the knob.. " She seemed to shake herself; there seemed to be some undercurrents, like irritation that her sister had married before her, that she was cuter, that she got more attention ... The boy toy stepped up behind her and rubbed her back and she glanced over her shoulder at him -- but he didn't stop and she didn't say anything to him. Instead, she looked back at me. "Try Collins." Then she cocked her head and her eyes flashed and she said, "Slocum. That's a fine old redneck name." Yes, Ma'am." I took. More

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