I returned to the shelves and found a book by a local photographer, published back in 1972. It contained dozens of photographs of people and buildings... in the city dating back to the mid-19th century. I flipped through the book, yawning and about to give up.My blood ran cold when I saw her. The picture was labeled “Diana Clark” and she was a few years younger in the photograph, but it was her; the girl I saw last night. “Clark” was apparently her maiden name.A thousand thoughts raced through my. .and faster. Pushing your cock inside me harder and harder. I remember feeling your cock stretching my small, tight pussy wide open." My hand started rubbing his shaft faster, squeezing a little harder. I moaned at the sound of my hand stroking him, faster and faster."Do you like that? Do you like that you stretch my small, tight pussy open every time?" God yes," He whispered. I whimpered softly. Even after all this time, his Scottish accent made me weak in the knees. He had one hand against. A few of them would have gone to the party to try to score with some girl. He just went to get drunk. That's not normal, even for us regular high school kids. His drunken attempts to kiss my neck and chest were the most normal thing he did there. I say that because not one person in the entire school would have expected him to drink more than three beers in the same month. Hey! Not that I'm complaining, but why haven't you tried to kill him yet for what he did?" Because I know a bit more about. I quickly looked down and realized she was hanging out of the car with my balls in one hand and her mouth fully wrapped around the head of my cock. Like the straw in the restaurant, I could feel her tongue running around the head of my cock. I gave in slightly and pushed towards her mouth with my hips. I felt her teeth slightly dragging against my shaft as she ran her mouth it’s entire length. I tried to argue again but all that came out of my mouth was a long slow moan.She moved her head.