She would pat her tummy before she would slowly slide her hand under her T, upward toward her delicious breasts. Touching herself, feeling her war... chest. She would tell me how good she felt. She would tell me how hard her nipples were getting as she squeezed and pinched them. Caressing herself. Then there would be a long period of silence. A hand would slowly slide down to her waistband. I imagined hearing the bottom being unhooked and hearing the sound a zipper being lowered. I. "That's right," Eric grunted, a drip of the sweat congregating on his forehead running down over the bridge of his nose. "You're my bitch." I'm your bitch," Carrie agreed."Damn right you are," Eric snarled, grabbing both of her legs and pushing them back towards her body, lifting her ass further off the couch and changing the angle of his thrusts slightly. "Gonna make you fucking come, that's what I'm gonna do." Uhh, yeah, fuck me," Carrie moaned, the altered angle causing him to hit new nerves. More

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