As her pants slid down below her waist revealing the top of her panties. Just before her pants slid down below her womanhood… she stopped and swallo...ed… and said… ‘Your turn!’ Trying to be as intentionally as seductive as she had been out of her nervous tension, I unhooked my belt, unsnapped my pants and began to slide the zipper down… and then without anticipation… my pants fell around my ankles. I had forgotten that the weight of the keys and billfold and made it impossible for me to mimic. “Good, I want you to come. And I want you to come inside me.” You gave me a look, then smiled. “If you insist….” Lifting one of my legs higher and draping it over your shoulder, you leaned farther into me, causing my hips to rise and your angle change. Now with every thrust your cock hit a sweet spot deep inside me, and I gasped. “You like that, huh?” “Yes, God, it hits just right…” Your movements slowed, but with every entry you went deeper and harder. “Like that?” My hands reached for your. It'd be her word against his anyway, and she's already got enough challenges. But I agree, after what she's been through it won't be because she's afraid of him." Yes'm," I agreed, but mentioning Hadiya's challenges made me think of something else. "Is she going to be in The Program, being Muslim and everything?" By everything you mean her scars and amputations?" Yes'm." I was uncomfortable the way she tossed out those words, 'specially "amputations." For some reason that actually made me. I’d like to think that desperately pleading for her to ride my face went some way to making amends. But that happened a bit later. We took drinks at the trestle table. The conversation was surprisingly cordial. It was all the usual stuff, where are you from? Do we know your parents? How’s about you take off that t-shirt and get naked with us - that sort of thing. Maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome or something, but I found myself in eager compliance. I even stood up and cavorted back and forth as.