Rachel Rubin Wolf

straddling my hips. He spread my ass cheeks, the head of his dick prodding my entrance before driving into me. My neck arched as I gasped at his intrusion. He caught my throat in his hand, keeping my head against his shoulder

frustration and rage into my body, and I took it. Oh, I took it, and I answered with scratches down his back and rolling hips, showing him I wouldn’t break.

“There’s something you need to know about me: I’ve had an unholy obsession with The Nightmare Before Christmas since I was a kid. Have you seen it?”

“Can’t say I have, but I know what it is. That’s the brother on your notebook?”