#132003 - His hand that was still on my shoulder slipped around my front, above my chest, the hand on my hip slid around my waist, and he yanked me back roughly, forcing a choked little sound from me. Ben’s hand made its way back to my mouth, and I bit him, not meaning to but just so close and tense and tightly wound that I just had to do something or scream. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember my Samantha…?” He said it as if we were old classmates talking about a past mutual friend, but his voice was mocking, conjuring the memory instantly of the nice girl with big tits…sitting on some young guy’s lap.
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