Trying to stifle a whine when Pretty Boy strightened, Gina sat up a little more, her hips still shifting in small motions to rub her aching pussy against the barstool. Despite her very obvious arousal - her face burned as she realized the scent of it rose around her - she tried to cling to that desperate shred of her pride that remained within. Meeting the winner's eyes, her head shook slowly, dark hair waving gently beside her russet cheeks.