6 comments/ 39206 views/ 7 favorites I'm It? By: Concerto_in_A She looked around. "I'm it?" she was hesitant, but she knew the answer. They had been partying for quite a while near a peaceful, secluded lake. The sun was setting. A campfire was burning. The gently sloping ground near the fire was covered with blankets. They'd had a great day swimming and hiking. There had been the requisite hot dogs and hamburgers. And beer. There had been lots of beer. Some of the boys (at what age did they become men, she wondered) had taken their girl friends off into the woods and meadows that surrounded the lake for extended periods. They had returned with leaves matted in the girl's hair and grass stains. Later some of the unattached boys had gotten quite fresh with several of the girls. Beer, she'd thought, as she watched from a restroom window. She'd gone in to pee, but mostly to get away from the group. She really wasn't having much fun. Cries from one of the girls, 'Stop that' and 'Don't' had made her look out the window. Carla didn't know any of them well. She'd just gone along on this picnic because, frankly, she didn't have anything else to do, being new in town. Through the small window she watched as one of the guys held a girl tightly. "Let me see," he slurred as he tried to slide his hand under her knit top. She slapped him away any number of times. Apparently having heard the commotion two others had arrived. They began to join in with juvenile taunts while preventing the panicked girl from going anywhere. Helplessly she finally relented. In frustration she said, "Take your hands off me and I'll let you look. Look, that's all. Understand?" Even from the distance between her and the girl, she could hear her heavy, panicked breathing. One held her by the hips restraining her from behind while looking over her shoulder waiting for the show. "OK," she said again, "just look. Don't touch," she told them with her hands on the hem of the short top. She looked at them now apparently reveling in their anticipation. Quickly pulled her top up. She was almost in profile as Carla looked through the window. No bra, just bare skin would greet the boys. She saw her jerk the knit top up. Her breasts were jerked upward along with the top. They fell, but just as quickly as she had raised the top she pulled it down again denying any of them what they had demanded. "That's all," she said as she turned to leave them. Carla could tell that the girl had shared in the flood of beer. She almost fell as she attempted a quick getaway. "Oh, no," it was a chorus of disappointed male voices. They easily cut off her escape. One held her arms high as she squealed and twisted to avoid what was now inevitable. Her tan top complemented her dark skin as did her black shorts. She continued to struggle, but her giggles gave her away. Her top soon rested on her shoulders looking like the tan top of a turtleneck sweater, except there was no body only the neck. Like most of the girls today she wore no bra. She stopped struggling. She had lost. She was being held shirtless, arms aloft. Now the boys had what they had demanded. She stopped giggling. One touched her breast tentatively. She recoiled, but didn't scream. She only twisted about, back and forth. Her acquiescence to the first seemed to give the others permission to join in. Her breasts bounced evocatively as she twisted and squirmed trying to avoid them. Small cries of fear replaced her giggles when her top was pulled over her head and tossed around by the boys. From where Carla stood watching, her nipples appeared just slightly lighter than the almost black circles they protruded from. The girl's cafe au lait skin glistened with sweat as the rays of the setting sun highlighted her bare top. "Give me back my top," she begged trying to cover her breasts with one arm while reaching for the top with the other. "You can have it back in class tomorrow," the boy holding it high retorted. "I'll see if the professor can guess whose it is. If he gets it right, you can have it back." Dumb, thought Carla. What a jerk. The girl gave up. Released, she turned and trotted covering herself to another of the remaining girls and got a towel to cover herself. What a bunch, Carla thought again. Perhaps I'd better get going before this gets out of hand. She went into a stall. As she pulled her shorts down she looked at her legs and closely shaven pussy. She had nice skin, she thought. I wonder if any of them think I'm attractive. Her thinking was so clear that she wondered if she had said it aloud. She left the stall and washed her hands. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she wondered again. Am I attractive? Slowly, almost against her will she pulled her own top up. Yes, nice skin. Only a few blemishes here and there, and they weren't bad. She looked at her bra. It wasn't attractive, really. Just an old bra to wear someplace like this where it didn't make any difference. No one would see it. She pulled her top down. She could see the white bra through the knit. Not much, but probably she was the only girl there wearing one. What would happen . . .? She took it off and put it in the large beach bag she was using as a purse. She looked in the mirror again. Could anyone tell. Would she show through the knit of the white top. If she looked, she could see her dark nipples. Better not. She turned to put the bra back on as the door opened and two girls walked in. She nodded to them and walked out too embarrassed to be caught rearranging her clothing. The sky flamed with reds and yellows as the sun continued its journey. Soon it would be dusk, then dark. A number of the couples had already left wanting to get home before dark. When she realized that the couple who had driven her out had left, several of the boys had volunteered to drive her home. She felt very uncomfortable. She stood outside the restroom for a moment, then walked slowly toward the fire. She suddenly felt quite out of place, even lonely. The boys were talking among themselves and drinking more beer. She heard a car start, then the crunch of tires on the gravel of the parking area. Someone else had left. She sat by the fire, alone. One of the guys sat beside her offering an open beer. "How do you like it here," he asked hopefully breaking the ice. "It's nice," she said breathing in the clear mountain air. "Actually I meant Colorado generally, your new job, the university, and all," he corrected. "Oh," she exclaimed, embarrassed at misunderstanding his question. "I'm lonely." It slipped out. She tried to recover but he was already following up. "That's too bad. I'm glad you came out on our little picnic or whatever this is," he said waving his hand across the landscape. "I'll be OK," she said still embarrassed. With nothing more to say she sipped at the beer. She hadn't wanted a beer, but here it was giving her something to do rather than talk. She stared at the lake. She hadn't looked at the boy who had given her the beer. She didn't even know which one it was. She was too embarrassed now to hazard a quick glance. "I watched you swim. You're pretty good," he said still struggling to start a conversation. "Thanks," she replied. Now she looked at him. Good looking, he had caught her eye earlier. She didn't know what to say further. Her look revealed none of the interest she had in him. She had never been outgoing. Making friends had always been a problem. Now that she wanted to make friends with this man, she didn't know how. "Well, I think I'll be going," he said starting to get up. He moved slowly giving her a chance to maintain the conversation and keep him at the picnic. "I heard that you have a ride home. See you in class," he said in parting. She looked back at the lake, but when she heard a car start and roll through the parking area, she began to panic. By saying nothing, she'd given up an opportunity to go home. She could have left, but she was stuck here with a bunch of boys that were none too sober. She looked around at them. Five boys. Where were the girls? She looked for the girls, but didn't see any. She stood quickly and went back to the restroom. It was empty. Was she the last girl? She went back to the blankets spread around the campfire. "Where are the others," she asked. She hoped it was a nonchalant question, but she was beginning to get concerned. "Honey, you're it," one replied. "I'm 'it'? You mean the rest have left? Must be time to be going," she said hoping someone would jump up to take her home. "Nah," he said. "Sit down." Was that a command, she asked herself. It sure sounded like one. She hesitantly sat. It got very quiet. They sat. While she sipped her beer, the boys gulped theirs. A beer can arched toward a large and growing pile of empties. A body rose in the dusk and left the area. Someone joined the circle a few minutes later. Probably whomever had left had returned, she agreed with herself. Probably had to take a pee. That's right, she mentally corrected herself, girls pee, boys take a leak. He probably didn't even bother going to the restroom. Just used the woods. He sat next to her. "Have a real drink," he said offering her a bottle. "Thanks, I'm OK." She held up the unfinished beer. He took the beer from her. It arched to the pile. "Have a real drink," he repeated more insistently. "Just a little," she said not wanting to antagonize him. She made no move to take the bottle. He thrust the bottle at her. "Aren't there any cups? I thought we brought some," she asked shying away from him as he pressed the bottle toward her. She didn't want to drink from the bottle, who knew who had drunk from it. And she certainly didn't want to be seen as a girl who drank from the bottle. A sense of her earlier fear began again. She knew what boys thought of girls who drank from the bottle and she was the only girl here. She also knew what boys thought of a girl who stayed when all the other girls had left. "You're a big girl. You can take it straight," he waved the bottle toward her. A snicker went up from the others. "Just a little," she thought of the girl who eventually lost her top. She had given in 'just a little'. She took the bottle and put the open top to her mouth. As she tipped it to take a tiny swallow, he pushed the bottle upward. Booze ran in a torrent down her throat. She coughed and gagged. It spilled from her mouth onto her top. It was cold on her chest as she kept coughing and gagging. "That's a girl," he said to general applause. She was afraid. Not wanting to antagonize him, she meekly said, "Sorry." She knew she should have castigated him for forcing the booze on her. She felt control slipping away. He offered the bottle again. "Just one more. I won't do that again," he said with a laugh. "Just one more," she repeated and drank from the bottle. It was just a tiny sip. "That's not a drink," he insisted laughing. "Take a real drink." She raised the bottle again and took a real slug. She liked booze, but this wasn't the time or place for her to be drinking. "That's better, honey." They don't know my name, she thought, too scared now to even begin to talk and make light conversation, conversation that might change the atmosphere and let her get out of here. She didn't realize she was still holding the bottle. Another bottle was making the rounds among the remaining guys. Without thinking she took another swig from the bottle. Dusk was deepening to night. The guys around the campfire were flickering images, almost strobe like. Moths circled the fire. Sparks occasionally flew from the fire winking out high above the flames. In the still air the smoke drifted upward adding only its fragrance to the setting. It was quiet again. "Let's play a game." It was the one next to her speaking. An incredulous "What," came from the other side of the fire. "Yeah, we're going to have a murder then try to figure out who done it," he said. "Honey," he began, then stopped abruptly. "Hey, what's your name," he asked turning to Carla. "Carla," she said quietly. Nothing more, just 'Carla'. No information about herself. "OK, Carla, you willing to be the victim," he asked laughing. "What do I have to do," she asked audibly sucking in a breath. "Get murdered," he said in a low voice hovering his head near hers looking down, trying to appear wild-eyed. He was succeeding all too well in appearing demented, she thought. He was genuinely scary. "OK, as long as you don't hurt me," she was clearly hesitant. "Nah," he said. "We're not going to hurt you." They talked about rules for the new game for quite some time agreeing on who would play what role and how they would investigate the murder. It sounded very confused and complicated to Carla who continued sipping on the bottle she still held. "OK, time to murder you," he said using his wild-eyed persona again. "Lie flat on your back." Not sure if this was a good thing or not, she lay back, her arms propping her off the ground. "Nah, lay down. You're dead," he insisted. She still didn't get the game, but she handed him the bottle and lay flat. "Let me have your hands." He had moved to a point just behind her. She extended her arms above her head with increasing hesitation. He was fast. Before she realized fully what was happening, he tied them together. Another tied her legs at the ankles. "What are you doing?" She heard her voice slur. "We're making you dead so we can solve the crime," he laughed. She began to panic. The others were standing over her in a semicircle. "OK, coroner, do your thing." The one selected to be coroner knelt beside her. "She looks pretty dead," he smirked. Let me check further. He felt for a pulse first on her wrist then on her neck. "Nothing," he said. "I'll try one last thing." He bent over her face. As his face came frighteningly close to hers she turned her head away. "You're dead, you can't do that," he complained. "Hold still." He enforced the command by holding her head upright. His lips met hers. She tried to move away, but he held her tightly. He smirked again, "I think those must be reflexive muscle contractions. Let me tell you, she's really cold. She must be dead." His voice dripped with irony. Carla could see why he felt that way. She hadn't been warm to anyone here and she certainly wasn't responsive when he kissed her. She had wanted to bite him, but she had simply given in 'a little' and let him do what he wanted. "Let's see if I can figure out what killed her." Carla lay flat on her back hands extended over her head, bound at the wrists. Her top had pulled up revealing her belly. Her dark hair, spread about on the blanket, framed a pretty oval face. Her legs were held tightly together by the bindings at her ankles, but her shorts revealed shapely legs, clear olive skin. In this position her shorts were pulled tightly enough that there was an obvious crevice between her legs. She made an erotic and vulnerable corpse. He looked over her body. "Where should I start looking," he wondered aloud. He began the exam by pulling her top tight as though to examine her chest. "I can see something dark red through her shirt. Maybe she's been shot in the chest. I better take a look." He moved the hem of her top slightly. He touched her navel as though it was a major clue. "She's got a real pretty belly button," he commented as professionally as his drunken state permitted. He continued to raise her top. "No," she screamed, now in full panic. She brought her knees up, but they were immediately pulled down. Someone held her arms. She tried to thrash about. "Right noisy cadaver," he commented not really reacting to the scream or her convulsions. "And I don't think she's wearing a bra." He pulled the top tight against her chest again. "If you look closely, you can see this nipple through the shirt." He pulled harder stretching the knit top in two directions. He was able to pull it sufficiently tight that he created an opening large enough to allow her nipple to pop through. Using his fingers he pulled her nipple all the way through so it was held in place as he let go of the shirt. He touched it again. "Wow," he said, "it's hard. She must have died happy." She was twisting and protesting vehemently, but hey held her in place for his examination. "I better look some more." He stretched the top over the other nipple. It, too, popped through. He played with them then allowed others to do the same. All the while she complained and pleaded. They were deaf to her. By now they toyed with her nipples and felt her breasts at will. Their laughter and crude comments drowned out her cries of protest. She had stopped struggling. Only the occasional, "Please don't," came from her. She was terrified. Her heart raced. "I think we need to look further into this," he said to the circle of young men. They agreed excitedly. He pulled the top up slowly revealing her breasts until he had completely uncovered them. "Put my top down," she cried out struggling again to get free. They held her tightly while they pulled her top until it cleared her head. The "coroner" began to feel her breasts. "They're still warm," he breathed. "Wow, they're fantastic. You guys should try them." They needed no further invitation. While the others either held her still or massaged her breasts and nipples, the coroner opened her shorts. A button, a short zipper and he opened them revealing unimaginative white cotton panties. He stretched the waist band out an inch. "Man, these are ugly. Let's get them off her." "Please don't, please don't," she said over and over knowing it would do no good. She no longer struggled. Like the girl she had observed earlier, she knew she had lost. He pulled her shorts to her ankles where the rope prevented removing them. He took hold of her panties commenting again about their ugliness, but adding, "She's much too pretty to have to wear anything this ugly." He pulled them slowly revealing her most private area teasingly. When she was revealed, the panties had joined her shorts just above the bindings holding her ankles together. The others had stopped feeling her breasts to watch. "Nice little bush," he said running a finger through her neatly trimmed bush. "Please don't, please don't." She kept her plea going at almost a whisper. No one was listening. They took off the bindings around her ankles and removed her shorts and panties. They did not tie them again. Instead they spread her legs. She lay almost motionless as they explored her body. Her legs were spread widely. Because they had forced them open, she didn't dare close them. "Please don't," she continued. She lay, naked, arms extended, wrists bound, legs spread. Her lovely face wet with tears that rolled from her eyes down the sides of her face wetting the blanket on which she lay. Soon they would begin to use her, she thought fearfully. She was helpless. Sobs filled her throat as she waited. The coroner ran a finger along the slit defining her vulnerable opening. He worked the slit until it began to part. He continued until she opened widely enough for him to enter. As his finger entered her, she said softly, "I'm a virgin. Don't do this to me. Please don't hurt me." They held her arms. They held her legs. The coroner stood, letting his shorts fall. She looked at the bulge in his briefs. Her fate was never clearer. She wouldn't be a virgin at the end of the night. His finger had been replaced by another. A voice said, "I can't feel anything." She winced as she felt the finger pushed here and there inside her. "I guess I wouldn't know what a virgin felt like." "We can't let her leave here a virgin, that wouldn't be right. It's our responsibility to relieve her of that burden." I'm It? "Who gets to have her first?" "Should we draw lots?" They had stopped feeling her body for some tough negotiations. Who would deflower her? In the cool of the evening with her hands tied above her head, her legs splayed, she began to recover her wits. "It's my decision." She managed to say with some authority. They looked at each other. "OK," said a voice, "but we all get to have you, right?" Her heart beat so fast she felt it would burst. "Untie my hands," she said in what she hoped was a commanding manner. A plan of sorts was gaining shape. "You don't need your hands untied to spread your legs," said a mocking voice. "I have to pee you asshole," she exploded. "Bet you could pee with your hands tied," the voice responded still mocking her. "Just untie my fucking hands," she screamed at him. "Nope," he said. "You want to pee, you just do that, but your hands stay tied." Disheartened and defeated she struggled to her feet. A rough hand took her elbow and began to drag her toward the lake. "Where the fuck to you think you're taking me?" Her voice was less strident, but still harsh. "We're going to watch you pee," he said. "Someone bring a flashlight." He pulled her stumbling toward the lake. He took her fifteen yards or so onto the beach. "Pee," he said stopping just short of the water. Confused about how to use this to her advantage, she continued in her strident voice, "You asshole you think because you can just pee anywhere you want, a girl can do that? Well, I can't." "Bet you can," he said. With no warning his open hand came down hard on her naked butt. She pitched forward landing on her face in the sand to general laughter from the crowd of would-be rapists. Frightened even more she lay still. "Get up, slut," he yelled in her ear. Someone pulled on her arm. She shook him off and stood. Facing her attacker she gently touched her butt where he had hit her. "Alright," she said, defeated again. She crouched spreading her knees. The light from the flashlight played on her pussy. Her lips had spread somewhat allowing the light to actually enter her body. "Stand up, slut," so we can see you pee like a man. There was general derisive laughter. "What are you thinking? I can't do that." "I could turn you over my knee and beat your butt until you started peeing." "You'd have pee all over you." "Might be interesting," he mused. Then he added, "Stand there and pee." The lights from several flashlights and the fire now played on her naked body. A soft onshore breeze came from the lake. A thought struck her and she put her mind to doing something she'd never even thought of doing before. Opening her legs widely and closing her eyes, she worked at imagining herself alone doing something naughty, peeing in the woods. She relaxed herself. She let her breathing slow and her imagination take her from this horrible situation. She felt it coming. It started slowly, only a sprinkle, but built. The light breeze blew the spray onto her legs. The warm pee became cool, then cold as it ran down her legs. She heard them whooping and hollering as they got off on watching a girl standing and peeing. The alcohol and her determination had given them what they wanted to see. It had also opened a corridor where they had moved out of from the path of the airborne spray. She ran. She had taken them by surprise as she ran down the corridor toward the woods, toward a path she had noted. She stepped on sharp objects and stumbled on the uneven terrain, but she ran. She had only a few seconds to get far enough ahead to make it to the woods where their flashlights would be of much less value. She ran putting her bound hands before her face she plowed into the woods along the path. She slowed to keep on the dark path trying to find a place to hide quickly. Ahead was a bridge over a small tributary to the lake. She feared what might be under the bridge, but she feared being gang raped more. She ran off the path, down the slight slope to the water, and tucked her body under the bridge. Nothing bit her, nothing stung her. The dark under the bridge seemed to hold none of her imagination's fearful critters. Within seconds lights and feet ran over the bridge leaving her alone in the darkness. She waited. Figuring it wouldn't take long before they realized she was no longer ahead of them and turn back, she determined to stay hidden for only a minute or so. Sensing the time right, she left the safety of the bridge and carefully climbed back to the path. On the path she ran toward the parking area. She'd find car keys and steal a car, she thought, as she ran toward the dying fire. Running as fast as she could she tripped and fell letting out a cry of anguish. A noise beside her then a voice. "I figured you'd have to come back so I stayed here, slut." She cried in fear and frustration. He helped her up. "You smell bad. Let's go the lake and wash that pee off." He led her toward the lake. As they passed the fire he stopped her. "Kneel," he commanded. Holding her by the hair with one hand, he dropped his shorts and gathered up the ropes they had used on her feet. Now he was naked as well as she. He tied the rope around her neck using a slip knot. As he moved about her she saw that his cock was hard. A knot grew in her stomach. He would want it inside her soon. As he finished with the rope he said, "Now I won't have to kill you to make you obey. You'll pass out way before you die." He pulled on the rope as he led her the rest of the way to the water and waded in with her. "Clean that pee off," he said allowing her to wash the dirt, sand, and pee from her body. The others were returning now. A light examining the beach and lake found them. "Hey," someone called, "Nick's got her. They're in the lake." The rest ran toward the illuminated couple. "Did you fuck her, Nick," a voice called from the darkness. "Not yet," Nick replied. "Where are your clothes?" "Just thought it would be fun to go in naked with her. Got her all clean for the winner of the pussy prize." "What?" "She was dirty and had pee all down her legs. I let her rinse in the lake." "Oh, OK." "Does she still get to choose who goes first?" "Sure," Nick said, "if nothing else, its the easiest way and we're all going to get a piece of this ass anyway." He patted and stroked her butt as he spoke. As she stumbled her way onto the beach, someone grabbed her arm. "Come on," the voice said, "and make it quick." Lost now, and thoroughly defeated, she felt as if she had no choice. The rope was tight, but not yet restricting her breathing. Not knowing what her deflowering would be like she made a quick decision to utilize what little control she had left. As she had been finishing rinsing herself, the boys had stripped. Now they were all naked and, in the profusion of flickering lights from flashlights and the fire she saw they were all hard. One of the guys seemed to have a relatively small cock, she noted. She'd seen men naked before, but she'd never thought about what it would be like to have one of them actually force his cock inside her. This cock was good sized from what she could tell, but seemed to be the smallest of those here. Nonetheless, it looked far too big for her tiny pussy. Regardless, it would be her choice. If I tell them I want the smallest cock, it'll create all kinds of problems including perhaps my getting the largest one instead, she thought trying to quickly evaluate the situation. She took two steps toward the guy whose cock had won. She hit the end of the rope and the noose tightened. She gagged and pulled on the noose. Nick stepped forward and helped loosen it. She continued forward until she could rub her breasts against the winner's chest. "I'm going to take the cutest one first," she purred pulling him even closer. She rubbed her pussy against his hard cock. Taking his head in her hands, she kissed him deeply. His tongue immediately entered her mouth. His excitement resurrected waves of fear in her as she tried to prepare herself for the onslaught. She smiled. She knew she should touch his cock, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She could no longer find words as she led him and the others toward the fire and the blankets. "I'm going to bleed a lot," her voice cracked, "and you're going to cum a lot. Is it OK if we mess up the blankets?" "We don't care," came a collective response and hands pushed down on her shoulders. Once on the blanket she looked back at the guy who was to become her first lover. Lights played on her naked body and his. She trembled at the sight of the cock about to enter her. He was staring at her pussy. He knelt and shuffled on his knees toward her, his cock aimed at where he would enter her. He put his hands on the blanket on either side of her shoulders. His cock made contact with her pussy. Frightened again she tried to skitter away pushing with her heels. They held her in place. Her legs closed. They pulled them open. She was terrified as she watched her lover's cock bob in anticipation. His cock found her pussy again. He tried to push it in. She tried to move her hips away. Grabbing her hips, he said, "Hold still, damn it." She tried to be still as his cock sought to part her lips and enter her. She was so dry it wasn't working. "Use your hands and get that thing open," he growled. Utterly humiliated at having to participate in her own rape, she found her opening and stretched the lips apart. He had his hand on his cock and was guiding it inside her. There was complete silence as they watched him slowly forcing his cock inside the terrified woman. They held her by the shoulders to prevent her being pushed off the blanket. They pushed her onto the cock slowly making its way inside her. Small cries came from deep within her. No one said anything. Perhaps no one breathed as they watched. From behind they saw her lover's balls swinging as he tried to batter his way inside. They could see her pussy slowly open. Deeper and deeper, but only millimeters at a time his cock advanced. He brought it out and pushed it back inside. "You're hurting me. Please don't hurt me." "Then let me in, goddamn it." He gave it a hard push. Carla screamed. It was token and sign of his victory. He dropped on top of her for a moment then rose up and looking into her eyes in triumph, he began to fuck her. With each stroke blood seeped down onto the blanket. She stopped fighting suddenly. She appeared to have passed out. No one noticed. No one cared. Even when her eyes fluttered open, still she did not resist. He used her bloody passage until he spent sending the first gush of cum deep into her body. When he stood, he proudly showed everyone his bloody cock, strutting about, dripping blood and cum, until the novelty wore off and he went to the lake to clean up. Carla accepted the next rapist without comment or tear. The cum from the first boy served as lubricant making the entry of the second less painful for either of them. Nonetheless, the pain from the tearing and from the stretching remained with her. It was made worse by his excited pounding as his hips slammed over and over against her. He finished with a whooping cry. He lay atop her sucking her nipples and moving inside her until he wilted. "Get off," "My turn," "Move your sorry ass," prompted him to rise first to his knees then ultimately to stand. Once upright he made to show the rest his bloody cock, but the third was already deep inside her. When he, too, finished, he was pulled off to make way for the next. She lay immobile as the last finished with her. She was barely conscious. "Who wants to try her ass," Nick looked about as he knelt to turn her over. "Leave her the fuck alone," one of those watching said. "She's had enough." "Come on, help her up," said another. She was on her feet standing uncertainly, blood and cum oozing down her legs, when Nick put his arm around her shoulders. As he stroked her breasts, he smiled and said, "No hard feelings . . . uh, what was your name again?" She looked at him in disbelief, but said nothing. Her mind was unable to find words to respond. Please comment and vote!