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Deana woke up panting, in a cold sweat, but she didn't open her eyes or move, she just listened. She wished Evan was home. He couldn't do anything to help her, nor was she allowed to go up to his room after bedtime, but somehow him being there made it better.After a few minutes, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened her eyes. Nobody was there, so she must have heard the sound in her dreams. It was a tiny groan that one of the boards made if someone stepped on it. Not just anybody, it had to be somebody heavy. Even from the pit of eternal sleep, that tiny sound would resurrect her. It was the sound that she still waited for and feared. She hated it as much as she hated what it meant.The peering eyes, the shallow breathing and the giant hands that touched her, rolled her and positioned her would be there. Please let it be Evan, she always pleaded with the Angels that never came to save her. She never opened her eyes, unless he made her.She always pretended to be asleep, hoping he'd. Your fingers trace the familiar trail from my nipples to my warm, wet cunt; and as you press into me, I exhale in a low growl. Increased intensity fuels your agression and you nip sharply at the flesh on my back. The bites both pique and inflame my skin, and the moments that separate the torture from the welt soothing kisses, seem like a delicious eternity. Your fingers tug and pinch my labia, rolling them, slipping in and out of them to dip into my wetness. You deftly circle my clit, brushing across the swollen bud in an erratic, irregular rhythm. The pressure of your erection swells against me, seeking the source of that sticky heat between my legs. In one fluid motion, you roll me onto my stomach, and pull my hips into the air. Leaning close behind me, your hands cup the round globes of my ass and pull me toward your throbbing shaft. I am hot and ready for you, a guttural moan echoing from me as you thrust into my core. You thicken and moan your pleasure into my shoulder, your.
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And the country was so fucking horrible. No wonder she’d never gone for walks in the country back home. What she wouldn’t have given to be back in her bed at the hotel just lying on the bed. She’d just lie there, soaking up her exhaustion. The shade of the tree offered none of the luxury they’d got so used to recently. The bare earth offered none of the bouncy softness of their mattresses, and there was nothing remotely like the soft cooling breeze of the air conditioner to blow off the sweat which plastered every inch of their skin. They sat on the crackling dry grass, pushed aside some of the sharp rocks, and lay down on their backs. As soon as they did, their legs, arms and feet throbbed with release after their unaccustomed exercise, and their skin burnt from the sun from which their factor 8 sun-screen had offered such poor protection. “What the fuck do we do now!” gasped Tracey. Sharon didn’t really have the energy to reply. “I dunno,” she murmured, as much to herself as.

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