‘please… kill me…’ blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth as she falls limp again, obviously still breathing, you can see her lungs fig...ting desperately for air. A figure brushes against your back, you look up to see Bobby, holding a bloody knife, grinning down at his handiwork… Rick stands beside him, holding a tray of tools, a thin line of drool dripping unnoticed onto the tray… You stumble backwards, tripping on the body. They smile at you, inviting you to join them in the feast… You. One night I was doing my rounds on the floor when I saw one of the bitches sitting outside her room.I went to her and asked what happened ma’am. The first thing she said was not to call her ma’am to call her Jenna. And second, she said was her card was not working so she couldn’t enter the room. I told her of our protocol about going to the front office for the issue of a new key.But she said no she wants the key brought here to her. Knowing that she was drunk I just asked for her key to check. I asked her to squat i.e. the Indian position for potty. She sat on my face and that anyway was what she wanted. But in this position I could see her sweet pussy as well her puckered as hole. I started playing with her pussy, with my fingers. She started squealing. Later came to know this was also her first time but being a bit elder to me and also having heard a lot from her friends she always acted as if she is a pro which she wasn’t. As I fingering increased she started leaking, her juices. I think we got a little carried away, just then. Sorry,’ he called out, then looked at Yves and Belinda. ‘I really am most sorry, I can’t apologise enough. I think we’ll be leaving, now.’ Pamela touched his arm and mouthed ‘Thanks,’ looking sorry for him. He gave a quick smile in response, but his heart wasn’t in it. Anne turned and stalked off towards the cloakrooms. Stan followed, downcast, miserable and still very confused. – – – – – – – – – – The temperature gauge in Stan’s Mondeo reported.