” She grabbed Daphne’s flimsy wrist and slammed the sponge in her palm. “Call me when you need to get dressed.” Mallory pulled away and reache... for her shirt.Daphne scowled. “What the hell’s your deal?” She rubbed the sponge across her thighs with care until the chunks of dried mud caked on her body broke away. She watched Mallory’s bare wiry legs pace near the row of sinks.“Just hurry up.” She snapped.“You DON’T have to stay with me, Mallory.” Daphne quipped. “You can march your grumpy ass. His grin glistened with her lust. "Didn't say how to use the finger," he leered. And then his lips found her clit as he fingered her ass.“Ma... Ma... Matth... Matthias!” she cried, stumbling over the syllables in his name. This had only ever hurt her, but he was slow. Gentle. Measuring his pace against the demands of her body. His touch rehabilitated past pains into pleasure, teaching her body about bliss. She would give herself to him, give him everything she was and possessed, and in return,. More

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