Surrounding her was rampant sexual activity. The couple nearest to the door – a dumpy women with a weird haircut and a previously disinterested man ...�� were actively screwing over the table. Her dress had been ripped from her shoulders and her underwear abandoned as she was pounded from behind, pushing her pendulous breasts into the leftovers of the creamy desserts. She was screaming, crying loudly as her "stud" rammed his tiny cock into her. "What's your name?" Eva," she squealed as my hands. I ratcheted up the pressure."How about Abdul?" I breathed. "Wouldn't you like to feel his hands on you?" He frightens me," she responded, apprehensively. "I think he would be ... rough." Would that be bad?" I don't know. Stephen's very — gentle. It's what I'm used to." Wouldn't you enjoy Abdul's strong dark hands squeezing your tits like a couple of oranges? Pushing your legs open and thrusting his fingers under your panties? Pulling out his thick hard... ?"Oh, Christ, Mr. Rogan," she moaned.. More

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