Not because he had saved me, but because he felt true sorrow that it had happened at all.I actually looked at him then and found that he was very hand...ome. My blouse and bra were torn off and instead of ogling me like most other boys would have; Brock took off his school jacket and gave it to me before turning away so I could cover up in relative privacy. I had called the police and when they arrived I found out that not only had he defended me, he had broken his hand in the process; he had hit. " You like it though, don't you?" he snarled, scooping his hand under her nightie and ripping the sheer material away. The neckband caught against her ribs and burned as it snapped.He wedged himself between her thighs and his blunt fingers probed restlessly at her snatch, pinching it harshly and stabbing in without any foreplay."Don't be rough, Allen," she sobbed, holding onto his neck as he raised her hips and shoved his hard penis into her. She felt the shaft scrape against her dry tissues. More

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