The woman’s arousal was obvious, for the giant rod was already slick with juices that spattered Éowyn’s face at every withdrawal. The only sensat...ion Éowyn felt was the sharp spike of agony searing her nipples at each thrust. They were a horrid counterpoint to her desire, but no pain could completely arrest her overwhelming need to climax. Had she able to speak she might have begged for an even crueler stretching of her abused flesh if only she could be allowed to reach it. But now she at least. I guess my job was done. The universe used me, once again, to get a woman through a crisis, and sent them on their way, at least partially healed.Abigail was able to catch a flight out of Charleston, South Carolina, and I continued up the Intercostal, alone – again.Being alone gave me time to think about Abigail's news. If her husband was some kind of conduit for Muslim terror, could he have been involved with the death of Abigail's father on behalf of them? And wouldn't it be a wicked bit of. The rest of her body was pressed against mine. I could feel her large breast squashed against my chest, her hard nipples rubbing against it. Her crotch was moving seductively against mine and I could feel blood running into my limp penis, swelling it. Sensing my erection, she pressed herself closer to me and I could feel the heat emancipating from her crotch. My hands went down her back and I cupped her ass cheeks, pulling her closer to me as I responded to her. In such a heightened state of arousal, my breathing momentarily stops.Walking around me, looking up and down, you inspect your nearly naked fucktoy. My skin flushing as I stand presented, motionless, for your morning inspection. Your fingers trace down my back, following the curve and ridges of my spine, until your warm hands cup my ass—their heat countering the room’s cool air. Your sweet breath tickles my skin as you squeeze my ass cheeks. “My whore needs her hair fixed,” you say with.