MISFORTUNE
Her back faced him, and he used his arm that he placed just under her breast to push her closer to him, inhaling her scent.
Priscilla wiggled, trying to set herself free, in the process waking up something she was not aware of.
Andrew painfully grunt, lifting her up, and throwing her on top the wooden round table covered in dust.
Priscilla behind came in contact with the hard surface of the table, and the second she sat up and opened her lips to speak out her displeasure, Andrew saw an opening and took it, kissing her with so much strength, still dragging the sitting Priscilla closer to himself.
His finger tip graced her nipple, and he pinched it through the thin material. Priscilla moaned in her closed mouth, trying not to make much noise.
She half scream the second he entered her, she didn't expect it, and felt like he had tore her into two. Andrew kept slamming into her without stopping.