By the time an hour had passed, her holes were stretched and tired, her hair matted with semen, her body stinking of sex. The only ones still interes...ed in using her at that point were the ones who got off on seeing her in that kind of state. So they spat on her, punched her tits, pinched her clit, called her fucktoy and cumbucket and anything else they could think of.But eventually they too had run out of steam, unable to get it up no matter how much they abused her. Now she lay on the. She came to the door unlocking it. I walked in past her saying that I needed a shower and that she could wash my back for me. I asked if she had a shower in her bedroom and she said that there was a shower down stairs that I could used and that the one in her bedroom was off limits to me. I made like I didn't hear a word headed up the stairs enjoying the power I had over her and her hot little body. She closed the backdoor hard locking it running up the stairs behind me. I asked which was her. I slide into you, hands gripping your firm shoulders, as you bury your nose in those black knickers. Your warm breath on my bare skin tickles and I squirm, giggling. "Distracting minx," you scold me, "Naughty angel." Fingers still cold from the morning chill slide under my tee-shirt; your thumbs rub across my nipples, teasing. They respond by standing hard, drawing the skin tight. I moan in response, already dampening those nuzzled panties. “Do you see what you have done?” you demand in that. Harold, defeated, slumped his shoulders and wiped the thought from hishead. He was (probably) just being paranoid. Paranoid and out of sorts.Lord knew he had ample reason to be suspicious but...something held himback from pursuing confrontation. He couldn't place his finger on whatmade him not act more aggressive towards the negro coach. It wasn't thethought of conflict...not really. It was something else. Some naggingurge that impelled to him to keep quiet on the matter, for fear.