Every time Alison started to get tense or nervous, Claire moved the fake cock slightly backwards, giving Alison a chance to regain control of her brea...hing. “Oh good, pretty fuck-slut, that so good,” Claire encouraged. “Relax, relax, it’s okay, you’re my bestest cunty-baby.”After several false starts, Alison managed to get to the point where she could stand the feeling of the dildo at the back of her throat. She continued to hum, switching to a slowed-down version of “The Prettiest Whore”,. “Not that much. Hardly anyone sucks more than one a night, and even if they do, they don’t do it night after night,” said Heather.We were all quiet for a moment.“What about Amanda’s guy? Did she say his name, or what he looked like?” I said.“She didn’t remember his name. He was just some guy at the party. But she said he was thin, with shaggy black hair.”I gasped. “I know him!”Heather scoffed. “Just based on that? There’s probably about a thousand thin guys with shaggy black hair on this. More

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