Once, I caught her watching me. She blushed and returned to her reading.It occurred to me that I was looking at her differently than I had ever looked...at a girl in the past. She was definitely female and I knew that under her sweater there was a pair of breasts. What I found astonishing was that I hadn't tried to picture the size or their shape, let alone think how she would react to my touch.Every time I looked at her I was struck by her tranquil facial expression, the way her hair bounced on. I guess it was increasingly horny, becauseeach successive man required fewer strokes to cum in me. After the third,I could feel cum dripping out and wished that John was cleaning me. anunconsidered step in his training perhaps? The last man came in me whilethe others watched, beer in hand and encouraging him. He remarked that itwas like fucking stew, I was so wet inside. I had purposely tried to notsqueeze out any cum. I wanted John to be properly dismayed at the amounthe was eating. As. More

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