“She’s not alone there, either,” Roni said while nibbling on my right ear.“That’s for certain,” Amy chimed in now.“Pizza, Chinese, Chine...e pizza, Tex-Mex, Indian?” I teased my very loving family.“Just use my cantina ... then you won’t owe a dime. Trust me. Your money’s no good with me, Jack,” Pilar winked at me.“Works for me. All of your staff are here, though,” I noted.“Yes, but we have lots of surplus food, and if you’ll let us, we’ll bring it here, heat it up, and serve it to you. It’s not. " I babbled and forgot what I was saying buthis made him fuck me harder and harder as I had multiple orgasms,squeezing his cock in my pussy to make it even more sensitive for him."I'm coming darling, I'm coming," and I felt again the warm flood of cumspurt deep inside my pussy bringing me to my umpteenth orgasm thatevening.We separated, lying on our backs and he drew my head onto his broadchest. I could feel his heart pound with the effort I had put intofucking me and making me his girl. I. "You just had to do it, didn't you, you sack of fucking shit?! You motherfucking piece garbage!" I kept up the steady assault on his balls with my other knee, now. My right leg had gotten tired.Roger at first tried screaming through my grip on his throat, and made the mistake of grabbing my arms to try and break my grasp. That wasn't going to happen. Years of working with my hands and arms had made them tough as rawhide and strong as iron. By the time I landed my umpteenth knee into his groin,. What was her motivation? What did she think? How did she think? No, no, that wasn't right. A bimbo didn't think. She was stupid. Irrational. Impulsive. Shallow. A bimbo didn't worry about seeming smart, about knowing what was going on around her. She was worried about looking pretty. About being sexy. About guys looking at her, giving her attention, giving her presents. Yes, that was her motivation! She wanted men to notice her. To validate her. To... to... There was a shiver in her cooze and.