I didn't say no. I didn't fight back. I watched him undo those brown pants and slide his cock out. He stepped forward and brought this hardening cock towards my mouth. I opened. I accepted. How did this happen? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. I was sucking his cock again, and it felt good. I could feel my throat relax as his cock stretched me deep, gagging me... but I didn't care. I wanted to be used. "Ya, that's it bitch boi," he chuckled... there it was, my favourite nickname... He fucked my face, going deeper and harder when he realised his fag boy wasn't putting up a fight. He had won, dominated me. And I was accepting. It felt good to be used; to be treated like a whore. I wanted more. I wanted to taste his balls. "Grkhhcan guuhhh I suuukkfff yougbaawwwwllsss" I muffled through his thick cock, constantly pressed in the back of my throat. Mr. UPS laughed, looking down at his spoil of war, he slide his cock out of my horny bitch boi's mouth and let his big balls dangle. ‘Oh well,’ Carrie muttered, climbing out of bed and shutting the alarm off. ‘Guess I may as well get ready for work.’ Carrie made her way into the kitchen after stopping in the bathroom, grabbing a cup out of the cupboard and pouring her morning cup of coffee before going to the front door for her newspaper. Carrying her coffee and newspaper to the kitchen table, Carrie pulled out a chair and sat down before pulling the elastic off the paper. As the newspaper fell open, Carrie was both surprised and shocked at what was laying there. Someone had obviously gotten to her newspaper before she did, lying in front of her was a bright red rose, its thorns meticulously removed. ‘What the hell?’ Carrie exclaimed, wondering who the hell would play this kind of prank on her. She bet that whoever it was was having a great laugh at her expense right about then. Standing up, Carrie walked over to the sink and opened the cupboard underneath it, pulling out a clear glass vase. Filling the vase with.
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