“And get off my bus before I call the cops.”
“It’s not me,” Carla panted. XXX Do you have any identification on you?”
My pecker ached; I couldn’t believe that I needed more satisfaction already. So I slid my hands up under her shirt, and squeezed her melons. “Not only is the ghost inserting his ‘pecker’ into my vagina, he’s also sucking on my flesh. Like I said, it was the Ghost of Paris.”
The cop advanced. The bum chuckled, slapping his thigh. I pushed the curtain of red to the side, exposing her pale neck. “Just doing a…ohhh…paranormal investigation.”
I picked up my pace, eager to spill my cum in her sweet cooch since the bus driver was getting suspicious. I bet the little slut would be up for a tumble. My depraved thought sent my balls into overdrive. “Blue hells, how you doin’ that?” the bum asked—clearly riding the bus because he had nowhere else to go; I’d
