Marcie is screaming underneath me, and I finally drop her shoulders. I know that she didn't really mean what she said, but I needed to hear it. Each time that she said she loved it, wanted it, I slammed forward again. "I knew you were a slut Marcie. You just needed me to take control of the situation so we could both get what we wanted."
With my newly freed hands, I stroke the side of your face for a few moments. A tender counterpoint to my driving hips. Then I slide them down, gripping onto your perky tits.
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I love it when a girl talks dirty. My favorites are, No, Stop, Please, and You're Hurting me.
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