I was laying on her bed, cock hard as a rock. She climbed on top of me and we began to make out. She grabbed my cock and slipped it inside her, riding...me hard. I grabbed her throat and squeezed a bit - she started fucking me even harder. I let go of her throat and slapped her lightly. She smiled and said "do it again". I slapped her harder. "Again". I smacked her cheek hard enough to make her head turn away. She turned and smiled, "again". I smacked the other cheek, then her tits. She was. Worry has a scent. It’s pungent and sticky, like tree sap. And the smell of it surrounds her. Grace has plenty to worry about. Sometimes, I wonder if a person eventually reaches a limit and the brain simply shuts down. If anyone has a right to mentally check out of life’s fun and games, it’s Grace. She has been through so much in such a short time and here she is again, bracing herself against another one of life’s many shit storms. I’m not much, but she knows I’m here for her. Due to our. More

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