Grabbing my shoulder, she demanded I tell if Bugs was dead or it this was all a bad trip.What did she mean by a bad trip?“I’m sorry. I have no ide... who Bugs is, or was. I came in here because you were crying like you were scared out of your skin by the storm. You seemed that you needed someone to sit with you to make you feel better,” I told her as I moved around to be near the door.All of the energy seemed to get sucked out of her. She dropped down into the beanbag. At some point the button. Lots further than I expected. Then I remembered the little gape I saw on it earlier. Obviously, she had been stretched. "Oohh! Yeah. That's it. Do it, my ass-kissing, panty-thieving salon boy." She began grinding herself onto my face. Her open pussy swallowed my nose. Her creamy juices were flowing. Hard to breathe, but I knew I had to make do. Stopping or complaining would most likely incur her wrath. "Kissing my ass got you horny?' She was right. I was horny. I didn't understand why, but I. More

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