“I hope my butt smells. It would serve you right for being such a klutz.” Peter was now helping himself to a couple handfuls of asscheek while he...ground his nose around in my crack. “Damn it, it doesn’t smell at all.” He mumbled in complaint, then went right back to smelling me just to be sure. I was looking at him from over my shoulder and was thoroughly loving what I was seeing. “Mmm, if I’d known you were into that sort of thing I would’ve made sure it was nice and dirty before you got. He was not wearing any underwear. He gave his tool in my hands. I started rubbing it.He told me in my ear that he didn’t had sex for 10 years and now he got me so i have to do sex otherwise he is going to awake all passenger who are also hungry like him and then it will turn into gangbang. I gave no response and neither resisted. He came over me and pressing his whole body over my body, pressing my boobs and rubbing his tool over my pussy. He removed my jeans and panty and now we both were nude. I gently rubbed against the straining member as I continued to watch, unable to move from my position. Placing her hands behind her head, she pressed her breasts forward, thrusting them out to the sun as if offering them in worship, her belly flat and tight, her feet apart, bottom tight and clenched, and oh what a bottom it was, all small split muscle, compact and flawless, like the rest of her lightly tanned torso. Then slowly she raised her face to the sky, and reached skyward with her arms,. Kind of a step down from piss slut, though. And where did pain slut fit in? Maybe I didn’t need the pre-fixes and I was just a slut. A slut for Mrs. Vandermeer, at least.I smelled it first. Bacon frying. After that, I just followed my nose to the kitchen, my stomach waking up quickly, a different kind of hunger stirring in me. Quickening my pace, anxious for breakfast, I found myself standing in the doorway of the kitchen. My gaze went immediately to Mrs. Vandermeer, her back to me as she sat.