CHAPTER 7. FORGETTING HARA

RYDER

The walls of the hotel shook tremendously at her loud, endless shrieking. Her hips had just buckled and her squirts flooded the bed, like a waterfall. Her trembling hands latched mine. Her quivering lips muttered incoherent words, which had a ”please“ in the middle of them.

She'd been at it a few minutes after we began, pleading that I let go of her. But I was yet to have my fill of her. 

With no heads-up, I Iifted her long legs ...