And apparently his room smelled like dead fish. “There’s a lot of girls here, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
Zach coughed. The water was cold, but the soap in the guest bathroom smelled sweet and flowery. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend I’m not a whore,” she said with a gentle grin. She laughed softly. With her hands on his v-line, she seemed to take a quiet, deep breath before deepthroating him – his hands gripped the sheets as her tongue worked at the base of his dick with the expertise of a pornstar, every nerve in his body feeling as if it was suddenly on fire. Her tits spilled out with ease, her pink nipples hard and proud against the cold air, and he couldn’t help but move one hand from her waist to her chest, gripping one of her tits in his rough, calloused hand. His body, however, refused to cooperate. “Not yet, honey.” She pulled away from him, moving closer, until she was planted right between his legs. See, Zach was friends with Dylan’s roommate. His nose was buried against her shaved mound, and he could feel the bone rubbing back and forth over her spit-soaked clit. “Hey!” She broke the contact so suddenly that his heart skipped a beat.
