She stopped several blocks south of Brad's apartment and leaned against a concrete beach bench. In front of her the sun was a large orange ball, the sky above becoming a riot of reds, lavenders and purples as the day drew to a close. Every shape seemed sharply outlined, almost lurid in the decreasing light. A soft damp breeze blew against Camey's flushed cheek as she closed her eyes and thought about the series of events leading to this terrible moment.

"Oh, how terrible," she said.

But a smile crept over her lips. She'd been fucked, and by someone who obviously knew what he was doing. There were no adolescent gropings, no wrong moves. Everything Brad had done had increased her excitement a thousandfold! She could still feel his body squirming over hers, feel his hot dick plowing through her tight cuntal curls, edging her swollen cunt lips apart while his balls dragged over her upturned asscheeks!

Just thinking about it made Camey shiver with sexual fever. How delicious it had been to feel his strong, hairy body pinning hers to the mattress! Camey enjoyed that feeling of being helpless, of being swallowed up in Brad's overpowering masculinity while his dick plowed aside the slick, hot folds of her virgin cunt and tore through her cherry.

A stronger, cooler breeze snapped the girl out of her reverie. It was getting late, and Ocean Front Walk in Venice was no place for a single woman at night, especially dressed as scantily as she was.

Camey gathered up her thoughts and walked stiffly south, hearing again the shrill voice of that woman screaming at the two of them. Her face burned with shame as she remembered that look of hatred glittering in Karen's eyes. Who was she, his wife? His girlfriend? It really didn't matter any more. She'd never go back to that apartment and risk having that sort of scene again!