Donnie and Andrew came back to the hotel room at 10:00 on Saturday morning. Donnie looked wonderful. She had what only can be described as a ‘well f...cked’ look. I know that look, though I had only seen it twice before in my life. I saw it in the mirror on Thursday and Friday morning. There is a major difference between being ‘just fucked’ and being ‘well fucked. We were ‘well fucked’. My goodness, before this week I rarely even thought the word ‘fuck’, and here I am thinking and saying it over. I always obeyed Kay to the best of my ability, and I had tried so hard to obey Cindy, doing my best to stay silent as instructed. She chuckled, kissing the swollen, throbbing nub between my legs, almost sending me over the edge. It took all of my will power not to raise my hips and try to grind them against her mouth in a bid to push myself over the edge. I managed somehow, despite her teasing words. She called me dirty, slut, nympho. They were all true. Even if I could, I wouldn’t deny it. I. More

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