<strong>Dean "The Kid" Logan - Late Sunday Night - Brothel Room 1</strong><br/><br/>He didn't really know why, but he loved the feeling of those large and soft breasts wrapped around them, sealing them within their warmth. He rested his hands on her shoulders, beginning to thrust slowly at first as she worked her own chest along his hardened and slick member. It didn't have the same sort of grip as her hand or the suction of her lips, but for some reason it still felt good.<br/><br/>"It feels great," he grunted in response. He was silent a moment, his fingers gripping into her shoulders tightly as he thrust harder and faster, her breasts rippling and jiggling with each push of his cock. His breathing grew deeper. It wasn't enough of a break, and he knew he was going to cum soon. He knew he should stop, should pause, but he just couldn't. He began thrusting between her breasts as if they were her own cunt, panting deeply as his crotch shoved and smacked into her body. One of his hands slid through her hair, making sure her head was bent back and looking up at him while his other fingers dug painfully into her shoulder.<br/><br/>Then he threw his head back, and with a shudder his cock thrust forward, a string of cum slipping into the air and splashing against Pearl's chin, lips and cheek. He did not relent, but the rest of it merely oozed onto her chest and between her breasts, the path slick once again. He gradually began to slow, his grip on her relaxing, and ever slip of his sensitive and reddened cock head causing his whole body to shiver.<br/><br/>"Shit..." he panted. He lasted longer, sure, but not by much.