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Brad had no idea where the need came from, but he reached out and stroked her hair. She turned to
him, her eyes wide and confused. He lowered to his knees, gently lifted the bottom of the shirt and
exposed her secret. Her killer legs instinctively parted.
Hope's eyes held his, the coolness of them blurred and watery now as he slid his index finger into her
core. Softly he stroked her, pulling the finger out, hearing her tiny moan and then sliding it back in again.
She was still so wet, so dripping, and he knew the gallons of cum he'd pumped inside of her last night
was responsible.
Her eyes closed and he treated her to a tender gentle rhythm--just one finger soothing, stroking.
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