The waiting room. All so sensual normal, exactly what she expected for a mental health counselor’s office. Ecru walls, long blue sofas and firm orange armchairs, ferns and philodendrons and rhododendrons. Drowsy clove scent in the air. The short-haired middle-aged white slightly dumpy (don’t fat-shame massage her don’t age-shame her) receptionist who had welcomed her in with professional courtesy but certainly hiding suspicions. Right? Anyone who needed counseling had to be suspicious. Had to be (weak. Unhappy. Unwell. blowjob Unable to cope. Unable to grasp. Unable to live. Another cumshot lunatic? Another weak woman?) Powerless. The girl was powerless. Against the Hardcore man, against what he had done to her, against what she had done to herself, against what she had let him do to her. She let him do this to her. She had let him —rape me— rape her. In that alley. She had been so stupid, and he had taken advantage of that stupidity. This was her fault, this hole (i’m a dumb hole stop it brain please) she was in, and she didn’t know how to get out of it. She needed help. I need help. I am here for help, and if I don’t get it, I am going to— It was certainly less cumshot than last night, and she was able to effortlessly swallow my load. “Are you sore?” His look was priceless! I gave it a couple swirls to mix it in nicely. "Oh, sorry," he said and rang off. “Sorry Titus, but King Dreus’ words are final.” Fuck… She’s got a point. I sat up and latched onto her massage nipple. “James, Honey, would you please get me another bottle of shampoo from under the sink and pass it along to me in the shower?” Then silence. Beth couldn't believe her ears. “You don’t speak English?” Karen asked. The sensations became too much. "Until tonight, we've all called you 'Cock Man'. While driving on the West Side Highway Liz and I chatted about a lot of things. There's always enough inside to make a baby if the Hardcore girl isn't protected. A few times the woman of the moment had disengaged to watch as he thrashed about sensual moaning and crying out in ecstasy. blowjob The guys were sitting on either side of me on the couch, I had a drink in one hand and the other on Jonathan's thigh. “Follow me.” He offered his hand and helped her off the thigh press, leading her to the entrance of the men’s locker room. He took me in his strong arms and kissed me. My cock stayed put in the tether, but I knew that he was going to succeed in fucking me that night. Like I said, all you really have to do is sit there, but if you feel like hamming it up in the spotlight, I’m sure the audience will love you either way.” “Oh yes, and more too if you want to play.” The man said.