I fish out what I’m after, giving him a stroke. His shoe under my chin as he lifts me back up. Indian sex I try to pull away but his grip on my hair is merciless and he viciously deep-throats me instead. He’s not seeing anybody seriously. Fuck me Matt. I posture up yet again, my naked breasts slide against his rough denim, and encounter his finger on my lips. He taps it lightly. He wants me. No turning back now. I internally have every reaction that you would expect me to have, from outrage (how fucking DARE you take your attention off me) to jealousy (is the Asian slut he’s watching getting fucked on his laptop prettier than ME?!) and I realize — his dick still lodged in my cheek — that if I push back and stand up outraged, I’ll have to ask him for my clothes back.
