“Again,” he demanded, forcing the thoughts away as he f****d her even harder. “Say it again. Damn it, f*****g tight, wet, young cunt!"
That was all it was. She was just a good f**k.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
Deeper. Harder. Faster.
Vincent couldn't get enough.
He wanted more too, damn it.
“I love your c**k, daddy,” Janet moaned, louder this time, her pride and moral high ground faltering under Vincent's relentless pace and overwhelming pleasure. “I love how you f**k me. Please, don’t stop. f**k me, daddy! All yours!"
Vincent let out a low, guttural sound, something between a groan and a snarl.
He was reeling.
They both were.
What the f**k did she just say?
The begging for his d**k was one thing, but did she just say 'All yours?'
Self loathing and unwanted warmth bloomed in J
