Raped Runaway

Начало книги

"Please, mister, don't hurt me," flfteen-years-old Lyn Holmes said to the man who was about to lower his naked body to heft. The man paused, his throbbing cock wedged between the lips of her tender young cant, and looked at her.

Lyn was worth looking at. Tall, supple, with good tits-flrm, high-set mounds, with large red circles at the center of the white abundance, circles centered on stiffened nipples. Her body tapered down to a small waist, then flared out into generous hips. As his eyes slid lower, they took in the thicket of russet cunt hair that began below her navel and swept down her body, into the undercurve of her torso. Lyn's lefts were even better than the rest of her, but he couldn't see all of them, since they were in the shadows.

"You're not going to tell me you're a virgin, are you?" he asked.

She hadn't acted like a virgin. He'd picked her up along the highway several hours earlier, given her a ride and shelter from the storm that was intensifying in power outside at that very moment.

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