He didn’t kiss back; he just stood there woodenly.However, part of him did respond and I felt his thing swell and grow: that was normal, it happened...every time I touched him. The difference was, I knew what it was for and what it felt like inside me.I wanted it inside me and quickly had him pinned against the wall. He was now kissing me back, trying to keep up, but it wasn’t enough.There was a primal urge.Perhaps people would call it make-up sex. Well, it was the first time I’d felt that. She was bored. Her fingers were jilling her pussy as she thought about being taken by more cocks than she could count, used roughly, taken beyond her limits.She knew she needed to be raped. She knew the fantasies wouldn't go away until she lost control, until she was taken by strange, dirty, selfish men.Saturday morning, Charlotte drove to the next town. She bought a pair of handcuffs at a stag shop and the skankiest tartan skirt she could find. She then went to a cheap salon and got a. More

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