I swallowed, blushing as she watched me, her expression unreadable. How long she lasted, I can’t say, only that I remained on my knees the whole tim.... When she was finally down, she shuddered, leaning forward, her hands clenching into my hair as if to say she was finished. I, however, wasn’t. It was no longer about me needing to cum. Now it was the need to make her cum again. I ran my tongue over her still glistening lips, licking the golden drops that still clung to her, lapping at her pussy. How could they be the enemy? They laughed, they played, they worked. Each one seemed different than the other, but they seemed to be working together towards a common goal. Occasionally, they fought – sometimes with words and sometimes with fists – but, for the most part, they appeared ... not necessarily happy, but content. Scared, of course, but they did not seem to let the fear overwhelm them.How could these people be the enemy? It was a question she’d asked frequently in the past few days.. The second floor to the left. I walked in my apartment. I love my apartment. It was because….like I said I needed company. It was a studio apartment, but it was big for a studio apartment. The living room combined with the dinner room was long, as if it could fit twenty people, and the kitchen was spacious. My room could fit six people, and my bathroom could fit four. Even though, everything sound perfect, the one who made it dull was me. Nothing wasn’t done all the time, my stories were. He would think about the teacher and her legs and start stroking his dick again. He would pull on his dick to where he could not help himself and he had to release his hot cum. He would shoot four hard streams into the air. His dick would be pulsating. The sensation never did last long enough for him.”“Kristen I am getting wet listening to you. I am going to rub my pussy,” said Mary Lou.“All through high school, Zak had girlfriends but never had sex just and some petting. It was masturbation.
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