<hr/><hr/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">"Let's Get This Party Started "</span></strong></span> </div><hr/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://40.media.tumblr.com/b98973f987c4ef79a514d3bfbf27f1e4/tumblr_ngww5p1ilB1sbw1gto1_500.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>NAME: </strong> Dominic DeCosta<br/><strong>AGE:</strong> 35<br/><strong>LOCATION &amp; TIME:</strong> Gymnasium Building, Heading for the Office Of Dominic DeCosta | 9/2/16 2:13PM<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Ciseleigh Capshaw <em><strong>CLOSED</strong></em></span></span><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br/><br/><br/>The cocky, arrogant expression lingered, her response more than satisfactory. Her whimpers tickled his ears with dark, lustful promise, as they edge closer and closer to cries of aching agony. She wanted him... <em>bad</em>. Her gushing lips were proof of that. Soaked thoroughly, effectively sullying her designer skirt, he knew she'd have some choice words for that grievous error on his part, but he was finding it particularly difficult to care. For, right now? All he wanted to do was pillage and plunder that flooded terrain and claim all the bounty therein. <br/><br/>Two firm hands clasped her alabaster thighs, he yanked her forward several inches so he could force her to lay back as he mounted the desk in a predatory slither. Lips fastened to hers, he wasted little time, if any, shifting her tight skirt up and over those curvaceous boundaries. Skirt hoisted, he flicked her second heel off letting it clack to the floor, carelessly. As decadent as a woman generally looked in high heels, he wasn't so much a fan of them catching him in the sack when his balls started slapping against her ass. <br/><br/>Porcelain breasts heaving with each excitable breath her lungs were fighting for, he spent a few spare devoted minutes resuming his laving and suckling, before his worked up cock couldn't take the torment any longer. It wanted in. Her fault, really. She'd fist fucked him until he'd just about forced her over the desk and ripped her wide open. He had more restraint than that, mind you. But, she'd pushed him right to that precarious edge between gentleman and beast fit to rut. <br/><br/>The throbbing head grazing her swollen nub of a clit each time his hips shifted up, he chased her lips in a dominating back and forth. He wanted to see the desire in the limpid pools of her eyes and witness that subtle furrow to her brow that spoke of the wicked things she wanted done to her... things every woman wanted done to her... but found herself too embarrassed or proud to admit. Pulling her arms up over her head, he crossed them at her wrists and pinned her down single handedly, a crass smack of his cock against her dripping cunt for good measure. <br/><br/></span></span><br/>