.I went into the kitchen and tool out a plate to make lines and I dunno how to say it except that I was filled with such contentment thinking about Ra...saah. how when she was younger how her mother used to tell her what a bitch she was and how she loves to open her legs of men and what a filthy Muslim woman she is and how she is dependant on men and how she loves to whore around and like pleasure and I smiled and chopped her lines and thought to myself how right her mother was and imp so lucky. When the throbbing inside me starts to subside, I’m feebly squirming with anger. “I. Can’t. Believe you.” I pant. He was absolutely right. He can be an asshole. “I let you cum, didn’t I?” he asks and starts fucking me again. I moan in protest. I’m so tender from my orgasm, the feeling of him sliding in and out is too much. “S-s-stop, I’m so s-s-sensitive,” I beg him, shaking from the feeling, but he doesn’t. He’s quickly moving in and out of me and I’m reeling. “Holy fucking shit,” I mumble. She put the cup down but on its side spilling what was left. She was pulling his head to her pussy forcefully. As she staggered up after her strong orgasm he noted some of the coffee had soaked her ass. He licked it off. She jumped on him and devoured him with kisses as they rolled on the carpet. They wiped up the leather couch and made another pot of coffee. They sat on the couch naked with legs intertwined and read the complimentary newspaper. ‘Look baby, these two stores are direct. Her white pale thighs shone dimly in the flickering light. A dense shadow was cast upon the region beneath where the night dress lingered on her thighs. I was straining my eyes to have a proper look passed that darkness separating my view from her crotch. After couple of minutes, she must have sensed that I was eager to see what’s under the cover of darkness between her legs, because she slowly moved her legs apart, causing the flimsy night dress to move further upward...And there beneath the.