Dave moaned yet again, this was all too much for him and he fought hard to keep himself from ejaculating over Heather’s firm belly and on his dad’s stupidly expensive carpet. He sucked on Heather’s fingers, his taste buds exploding with the heady, piscine flavor of her virgin p***y, his mouth close to hers as she, too suckled on the flavors of her own s*x.
“Do you want to f**k me now?” Heather purred.
“We – er – we shouldn’t,” Dave stammered as Heather’s delicious fingers slipped from his mouth.
“Come on, Dave,” she cajoled, “don’t you want to be the first?”
“I always thought that would be Garry,” Dave said, at this stage actually more worried that Garry would be angry at him having f****d Heather before him than at performing the act itself.
“Really?” Heather pretended to be shocked,
