Consume her. She would enjoy every second of it. And so would I. Her silky snatch squeezed about me, building and building that ache at the tip of my ...ick.“Yes, yes, yes!” I growled, pumping away into her pussy. “Mr. Michaels!” she groaned. “Oh, your cock! Your cock is amazing, Mr. Michaels. I'm going to cum on your dick!”“Good!” I groaned, loving every moment of pumping into her. “Let me feel that pussy spasm. You're going to make me explode!”“Yes, Mr. Michaels!” she moaned, her pussy. The owner chef then came out and talked to who he thought was Peter and basically ignored April. She seethed - damn Andre - he was such a male chauvinist! The great red wine made Peter giddy, and she looked across the table and was disturbed at the thoughts in her head. She wanted to jump the bones of the man across the table from her.Sex that night was great.The next morning Peter, woke up with a hangover. She never used to have hangovers! But then, this was April's body."Ohhhh! Please April,. “What happened? Did he say what happened?”“Oh, Jake,” she sobbed. “He said she killed herself.”I went silent. More tears rolled down my face. I felt dizzy. I felt sick.“They found her in the bathtub this morning,” she finished, unable to say more.I don’t know how long I was on the floor. I don’t know how long mom held me there. But I was in my bed now, fully clothed and on top of my bedspread. It felt like hours or just mere seconds had passed. I was still trying to gather the facts. I hadn’t. I guffawed again.She held the expression while she reached into her bag and pulled out a tissue for me, "It's true."I wiped my eyes, and my nose and my cheeks and my chin. I had no trouble imagining that Becky had intended to say that at some point, and it would have been completely serious. I had accepted, for the sake of continuing the conversation, that it might be possible for me to look attractive. I had come to believe that the Vals were confident of that, and I had felt a growing hope.
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