I still had that kickass attraction to him, but I didn’t know if he felt the same way. There were times when he always managed to find a way to touch me, brushing our hands in class, having our knee touch underneath the desk, touching my lower back. He was driving me insane, I craved his touch like a junkie would crave his next shot. A month later, things started to go south again, Ethan missed school more than usual, and the sixth anniversary of my parent’s death was coming up quickly. It was probably the worst day of the year for me and each year it didn’t get any easier. I missed Ethan, I missed my parents and I missed Max, who couldn’t get a leave from the army. I was an emotional mess and I didn’t have a single soul to talk to. The day that marked my parent’s death, Sara let me stay at home and asked me if I wanted to join her at the cemetery, so we could pay our respects. When we got there, neither of us said anything, words were not needed, we just sat there, holding hands.. The weary whore shrieked as Tank brutally dragged her out of the room and down the hall to the bikers’ lounge. Her heels clicked loudly as she barely was able to keep pace with the Outlaw. Once they were inside Tank forced Hannah to kneel near the center of the room. There were about 20 other bikers packed inside, and it was clear they’d all been waiting for the Asian. “Shit, can someone go get the pitcher of jizz?” Tank asked, just realizing he’d forgotten it. One of the Outlaws instantly disappeared before returning just seconds later with the filthy jug in his hand. As soon as the other men saw it they all erupted into cheers and joyful laughter. Practically all of them had lingered around just to watch Hannah ingest the ridiculous amount of cum inside the pitcher. Just seeing the little Asian swallow one load of cum was a wondrous sight for the bikers, so they were beyond excited to watch her down nearly 50 loads. “Listen carefully slut,” Tank stated, jerking on Hannah’s.
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