Carole Wilson was the tenth captive still alive, and she was in the kitchen preparing dinner.Carole was a survivor. She alone of the captive women was...allowed to wear clothing - currently a long Mickey Mouse t-shirt and nothing more. The thirty-four year old mother of two had convinced her captors that protection while cooking would let her do a better job. Her assertion was lent credibility, because she had appeared willing to perform every sex act demanded of her. Carole wanted to live to. Soon she was bucking and grunting, close to orgasm. Then quiet for a few seconds before the first wave hit her, her body rigid, then shaking and trembling as she let out that low growl that turns into a scream when she cums.Lots of mini aftershocks as her body calmed down. John turned her over onto her belly and pulled her up on her knees, came round behind her, his cock rock hard and dripping with her saliva. He got between her legs as she looked at me questioningly. I nodded and she closed. More

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