“They tracked your GPS,” Adelaide breathed.“Yes, and I’ll give you a million-to-one odds that it wasn’t a hotel receptionist that put this w...ole nasty shit together,” I offered.“You can track that phone call,” Beth put in.“I think so. All I have to do is find it in the log and press redial.”They both looked at me expectantly. I pointed to my cast.“I’ll do it,” offered Beth.She took my phone, her fingers whizzing across the screen as if it had been created specifically for her.Adelaide frowned.. She had her long legs wide open, her cunt on open view. A perfect picture. I grabbed my camera. Click, click, click with Lisa posing for the shoot.With her long nails she was scratching at the cum “scabs” on her inner thighs, neatly putting the “souvenirs” on the side table.“I wonder whose cum this is?” she mused in a semi memory trance.“There’s some around your mouth and on your cheek” I told her. She put her tongue out and tried to lick the mementos of the afternoon’s gangbang off her cheek.. She’d had her breakfast: cereal and toast, and now sat there flipping through the TV channels looking for something that might interest a teenage girl. There was nothing. Her parents had gone off to work, so she was all by herself in the house.The last day of school had been a waste. Because it was a nice, sunny day, everyone went outdoors for classes. Short and sweet, teachers merely preached about the value of learning and how to continue to keep their skills up over the summer. Some classes. “Alright, wife, you asked for it, you got it!” I teased Pippa as I yanked her lovely blonde hair and rammed her even harder, driving deep inside her lovely British twat.“Oh ... God ... yessss!” Pippa exclaimed, her pussy so slick now from my cock inside her that she could put out a fire with her juices alone ... and then I eased a finger into her butt.It was like creating a brand new geyser, Pippa both squirted and peed on me, but the latter wasn’t her fault. She just couldn’t control her body.