Ashley
“f**k,” he hissed. “Hell f**k…mommy see that?” His hands gripped my waist. He started f*****g me harder. “f*****g your best friend on your grave.” The angle made every thrust drag against my sensitive spot. “I am a good son, right?” He pushed deeper. “Proud of me, right?”
“You are a good son… yesss go harder… mommy loves it harder…ohhh… yeah…like that… your mom…ohh god…she will be proud of you.”
“You are so wet… too wet,” he said. His voice had gone rough. “Listen to it… listen to how your p***y is making noise…are you always wet like this?”
He wasn't lying…I could hear wet sounds each time he sank in. One of his hands left my hip and slid up my back, then around to cup my breast. He squeezed and rolled my n****e between his fingers. Forcing the milk to spread on the grave.
“Ye
