On the drive home from the pub, Saskia and Emma hardly exchanged glances, let alone words. Jogging for awhile, the sounds of Britney Spears Circus pounding in her ears, she did not hear the car pull up beside her, or that she was being called. XXX See at the game later?’
‘Yeah, see ya’ and with that he snapped the phone shut. Then suddenly, she felt him slow down, and then one last thrust and he unloaded what felt like gallons of his cum into her. ‘So its Monica’s own fault eh’ too late, and with those words he quickened his pace, thrusting even harder, his balls slapping against her arse. It was Phil, the barman from last night. ‘See ya whore’ ‘you’re not taking me to see Michael then?’
He just paused getting dressed and smiled an evil smile.
