When Angelo came he gasped, hissing between his teeth, and then he practically yodeled, mixing his tortured cries with Cheri's as his moon-colored jism rocketed and splattered up into her crotch, mixing with all that fabulous, fragrant cunt-juice as she bounced up and down on his pole, pounding her p***y onto it to drag out the last of her orgasm, to wring out the last, least sensation of it.
It was almost over before it had begun, but at least now she felt warm, woozy, satisfied, and had the vague feeling that she might make it through the day.
As she walked away from Angelo she looked back for a final sight of his foolish grin, and to see him still standing where she had left him, staring at his hand, still dripping with some of the glistening, lathered c*m that had slithered out of he
