She knew he would see the stripes if they were still there, glasses or no glasses. “You promised, you promised,” she shrieked. “Please, please, ...o more! If he sees the marks there’s no telling what he might do. Adams, I implore you, please, please, you’ve had your fun. Adams, Adams, anything, anything, I beseech you!” “Anything?” Her heart stopped. What had she said? Was this the end? Was this where she finally lost all control? Damn him! Damn him! Damn this insignificant turd! He didn’t even. “Is this what you wanted, Ambrosia? Do you like me slamming into you, using you as if you were a common whore?” Mike panted into her ear. She gasped with one particularly calculated thrust. “Yes I want you to use me like this! I only want to be your whore!” She screamed her orgasm, which surprised her more then anything. What was only a myth to her was now brutal reality and reveled in the feeling of it. Her eyes were wide open, not wanting to forget this moment that an American gave her such. More

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