Now." Charlie practically flew out of his clothes. But the next message froze him. "Make it up to me." What the fuck does that mean??" Make it up to m.... Make me forgive you."Charlie sat still on his couch, butt naked and holding his phone in one hand and a marker in the other. He felt an overwhelming urge to make Sam feel better, and finally chose to write, "Sorry, Sam," along his cock, with a cute little sad face following it. He sent a picture, and waited.Five minutes. Ten minutes. Seventeen. Her hands were massaging her nicely sized breasts, stopping from time to time to allow her fingers play with her hard nipples. He could tell she was getting excited and he couldn’t decide to stand and watch her play or get out to the tent and be part of the action. He loved watching Hannah taking care of herself, but not quite as much as he loved to stroke her soft skin, lick her clit and, of course, stick his hard dick inside her slick vagina.He watched for another minute or so as Hannah moved. More

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