She was dimly aware of the hands on her gyrating hips working their way so eagerly over her rounded buttocks to resume the lewd task she had begun on ...er own -- of massaging her pink, blood-inflated clitoris, of stroking heatedly in and out of the inflamed walls of her passion- drenched cunt. It was like an obscene dream. Perhaps it was all still part of the pornographic film -- the excited brunette was not sure.Everything had faded into unreality except the hands exploring ever more lustfully. Alex watched her hobble back and forth between the dresser and the suitcase, at a loss for words to say. You’re a writer, his inner voice cried in disgust. Words are supposed to be your fortė. ‘Don’t go,’ he murmured softly. Holly stopped what she was doing, her back stiffening. ‘What did you say?’ she asked, not turning around to look at him. She felt a sense of dėja vu, he’d asked the same thing of her the first day they’d met. ‘I want you to stay,’ Alex said, a little more loudly. ‘Don’t. More

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