He slid his hands up the inside of her smooth thighs, stopping at the hem of her shorts. He pulled back searching her eyes for a sign that he should s...op. All he saw was fire as he felt her hand on top of his bringing it to where they both wanted. Needed. Sloane gasped when Gabe massaged her slit through her shorts before pulling them aside to move his finger up and down her wet pussy. When she felt his finger slip into her heat, she threw her had back at the sudden pleasure. His finger felt. The object of his affection smelled of beer, cigarettes, and hair spray. Her d**g-store eyeliner was smudged and all that was left of her lipstick was a barely detectable line of equally cheap, pink lip-liner framing her thin lips. The rest of her lipstick was adorning the six or seven bottles of beer she’d consumed. Her name was Jeannie . . . Janey . . . Jenny, something like that, but her name really didn’t matter to him. She was so wasted, he could have called her Matilda and she. More

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