And…’ – she was crying now – ‘it’s all right to rape me, you don’t need my consent.’ Her voice went quiet. He looked for her in the break room, and in the toilets, before finally finding her out the back of the store. xxx ‘Is it okay if I just call you Twat?’
“Fucktwat” nodded, still blushing. He assumed it a was a community service thing; probably an obligation given to her by a judge after a prostitution charge or something, judging by the way she looked. He could feel his cock rock hard. Her cunt felt great – wet and soft and warm and tight. Don’t tell anyone. She never got caught, and he loved the thought of these whores feeding their piss to each other. He pulled off her skirt and jammed it in her mouth to muffle her cries, then went back
