You are behind me, hands around mywaist, lifting me again, hauling me over your shoulder. You carry meinside the cottage. Out the front window I see...the car moving away slowly,traveling back down the gravel road in into the wilderness. "We're stucknow," you say. In front of the fireplace sits a worn sofa, wooden at the base withdozens of soft velvet cushions. Upon the floor is a huge pile rug. Towardthis you carry me, setting me down on the rug and firmly pressing my legsback toward my. Almost rude. Odd that I should be so shy, but I remember distinctly wondering what to call her. The thought occurred to me as I grasped the rough lace of her panties, and jerked at them savagely until they ripped free leaving an angry welt across her thighs, exposing her desperate cunt to the air conditioning of the hotel room. The scent of her lust mingled with the mildew stink of the cold air. I don't know why, but it made me hard. I'd met her in the hotel bar in Texas. She had been sitting. More

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