"I’m cumming, bitch,” Carl groaned. “Take my cum you filthy slut.” “What the fuck, Carl,” I heard a woman scream. It was Marie. “You nee... something, Marie...” Carl pounded me harder as I felt him shoot several ropes of his juicy cum into my bowels. Then he said, “Can’t you see I am breeding Bill’s fuck toy.” He pulled out of my gapping asshole and soon filled by Henry’s cook leaving my sore mouth free. Or I thought. Marie now stood in front of me, pulled my face upwards by my long hair. She. ” “Really? That would be great. I can’t explain it, but suddenly, I’ve had this urge to paint. I like writing poetry but, I want to see if I can capture the light, the ripples on the river.” When he spoke and looked into Emily’s eyes, she was captivated by his intensity. “My boyfriend used to paint,” Emily said. “Used to paint?” Walter asked. “So your boyfriend doesn’t paint anymore?” Thinking about Jonathan’s paints and Walter wanting to paint brought a rush of feeling over Emily and she. More

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