My tits were pressed intothe rough wood of the table as my jewelery jingled with each thrust. Hiscock in my slit and his body slamming against my full...ass, I was lost inthe pleasure of it, the overwhelming sensation of it all. I gripped thetable tightly as I felt him cum, his hot seed blasting deep inside my newwomb, like magma in my belly. Once spent he slipped out of me, leaving mepanting on the table his warm cream resting inside me. It came to me thenin a flash. I was the camp concubine, or. Like we'd been hit by lightning.Marisa loved sex. Loved fucking. Loved talking about it. Graphically. You'd think a girl who'd been raped at such a young age would have forever been turned against it. She hadn't been. She loved it. And wasn't shy about letting me know it. And surprisingly, when she told me stories of the men and boys she'd been with, I wasn't jealous. That was then. Before me. I had absolutely no doubt about the now. Neither of us did. It would have been impossible for either. More

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