“You filthy little slut, you feel so fucking good,” he growled, gritting his teeth as he kept on pacing himself, “After I pump my cum down your ...hroat I’m going to use your pussy and your ass too. I am going to **** your holes so hard you’re not going to be able to walk for a fucking week,” he added. The shock and fear in her eyes made him pump his cock harder and deeper down her throat. Tears were pouring freely from her eyes, and she was whimpering feebly as he thoroughly ****d her. I blushed as I remembered the picture, but I went on. ‘He gave me his card.’ There was the bit about not telling anyone, but that was probably not important here. It did not seem to satisfy them. Barbara Johnson asked, ‘Where were you? Was there anyone else?’ That was easier question to answer. I said, ‘7th Street Diner. Justin.’ The Barbaras looked at each other, then Barbara Kennedy shrugged. Barbara Johnson pulled a clipboard out of a slot and handed it to me. It contained the usual sort of. More

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