Harriet Hotter Ch. 14

In the dream Harriet smiled snidely and looked down condescendingly at Heather. "White robe slut, I'm going to fuck the life out of you and suck you dry. Ha-hah, as I recall, you liked it up the arse. I wonder if you'll still feel that way afterwards."

Heather knew it meant her death. She wanted to plead for her life. Instead, her arms reached back and opened the cheeks of her bottom, even as her mind screamed. "Fuck me. Fuck me anyway you want me. Take me. Take my arse."

"You want me to take your arse?" Harriet asked in disbelief, taking a wet finger and slipping it into Heather's rosebud.

"What - ugh - oh!" Heather gasped. What had happened? Where had she been? The images from her fantasy had seemed so real. Her knees still hurt from the cobblestone alley. She had no time to ponder such thoughts, the finger in her tight rear hole was relentless and the feeling was delicious. The finger was withdrawn and she felt something larger pressing against her tight grommet.

"Oh-oh-oh-oh-my!" Heather squealed as Harriet drove it home.

"God Heather," Harriet gasped. "You are one hot girl. And you have a wonderfully tight arse."

"Oh Harriet - oh Harriet," Heather whined. "Hie-hie-oh- hie-I love it. I love it. I love you, hie-hie-give it to me. Fuck my arse. Fuck me all night long."

To be continued. . .

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