Stan had been holding her and he was as naked as she was. Suddenly wide-awake, she blushed pinkly and felt ashamed. What had she done? Her thighs were...sticky and her pubic hair matted. Fucked! She'd had sex, but with whom? Obviously Stan. How could she have? Jan and Bob would kill her. Bob and Jan? Where were they? Two feet away, on the other side of Stan, two lumps moved under another blanket. That son of a bitch and that slut! She would fix them good! Hold on a minute, babe. Your indignation. Soothing its pain with his tongue, he watched her eyes flutter as she quickly rose toward consciousness. Sitting up, but not removing himself from inside her, he flipped her over, a squeal of surprise turned into a groan of appreciation as he slammed his cock into her fully once more. “Get on your hand and knees slut.” The words were almost growled in her ear as he forcefully pulled her hair back. Confused and groggy she obeyed, pulling herself up onto her hand and knees, providing him easy. More

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