Her short, dark hair stuck up in spikes, her boyish face slack with sleep–flushed cheeks,Big Breasted tired brown eyes hidden under closed lids. Her brown eyes widened, sweat beading on her forehead, and she was close, her narrow hips jerking.

He saw it–her cock pulsing, her breath catching–and snapped, “Off–wait.” His tone was brutal, no softness, and she yanked her hand back, a frustrated yell tearing out. Her taste–his taste–flooded him, salty and raw, a primal rush that sent a shiver down his spine–Linda’s spine–his muscles tensing under the sensation. What was she doing? Did she have the hots for me? Calling me “baby?” I figured if I didn’t find out today, I would soon.