When Vinnie Scapuletti’s blood-engorged c**k entered her yearning vulva, Babette Hendrick arched her back on the hardwood bench and unleashed a savage howl. What seemed like a hundred answering cries pounded her eardrums, her voice rambunctiously rebounding through the cavernous aisles of the boy’s locker room.
“Hush, Babe, hush,” cautioned Vinnie, halting his hips mid-thrust. With dusky blue eyes, he scanned the ill-lit room, the smoked-glass windows valiantly battling to keep out the blazing sunlight. His handsome face creased in apprehension. “We’ll catch holy hell if anyone finds us.”
Babette tossed back her head and giggled. “That’s half the fun, silly. Now f**k me with your huge c**k or I’ll scream some more.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
No one dared Babette in any way, shape, or form.
