?

T

O

J

I

F

U

S

H

I

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3

m

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n

.

1

2

s

e

c

s

'

Tch-

where the hell do ya think

you 're

runnin ' off to, doll? '

Toji 's trapping both your droopy ankles with one dextrous set of his thick fingers,

dragging

you about halfway down the king-sized mattress in an instant. He 's oh-so-greedily pinning them over the curvaceous dip of his deltoids with a

mean,

sweat-slicked palm,

'

Don 't tell me yer

hah-

tapping out after only

three minutes?

'

Punctuating his

filthy

push and pull with a few syrupy

thwack! thwack! thwacks!

of his strawberry-pink tip down your sappy slit. He 's leaving

generous

wiry ribbons of pre that smudge and smear a pretty lipgloss as you

clench

.

'N-