Chapter 77

Riley

Ian's long, thick c.o.c.k rested heavy against my dripping, c.u.m-filled p.u.s.s.y, the fat head nudging my swollen folds.

I was trembling with need like some fish out of water. My forehead was pressed against the cold gla.s.s, a.s.s pushed out.

"Beg," he repeated, "Tell me exactly why...

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