"I'm cumming, I'm cumming," Kim coughed suddenly, and mumbled incoherently until the sounds bubbling from her mouth were a mass of unintelligible syllables whose meaning was only known to herself. A low banshee wail pierced through the sounds of the squeaking springs and the two panting bodies slapping sweatily together, the young girl's nostrils flared, and she pulled back her thighs until the whole of her pink, cock stretched vaginal slit was presented to Roger to batter and crush, while her stomach and breasts jerked spasmodically against his bells and chest. Then she held her breath for an interminable moment and expelled it as though hit in the gut, and her body collapsed limply onto the mattress, still save for uncontrolled quivering of her insatiable pussy which was still locked tightly around Roger's surging prick. He saw that she had reached her release and he pushed deep inside her and then lay quiet, allowing her to rest for a moment.

It was all he could do to keep from screwing her more. God, he'd never seen anything like it, never felt anything like it, before in his life! The muscles of his prick throbbed and ached deep in her belly, hoping to bring her to life again, but after long moments passed, a semblance of sanity returned as the first furious moments of sexual frenzy abated, and he knew that he should begin to feel waves of remorse and shame. But they weren't forthcoming, and strangely, he felt only like a full-blooded, virile male who had satisfied a true, sensual woman and who was still lusting for more. He felt a certain power and a much needed bolstering of masculine pride, his ego having taken a beating with lewd, horrid news that Martin Oliss had told him.