No idea how she could get away from the k**s, much less the other older woman. Later she was at check out and long line, I looked and pointed to the b...ck of the store. She told old woman something and walked ot meet me. I just started walking to the bathroom. She followed and once there I held the door for her. Took her into the stall, locked the door. Kissed her and grabbed her tight little ass. Pulled her top down and she stopped me. She worked her clothes and exposed her dark nipples and. My hands run up and down her back, scratching lightly, cupping, squeezing the soft, rounded cheeks, tracing the length of her spine, pulling her closer, closer. She pushes me away, pushes me down onto the bed and kneels above me between my legs, propped up on her hands, her hair shadowing her face, her breasts dangling like peaches on the vine, like golden brown globes, tipped with rose-red points that stiffen as I touch, the flesh of the aureoles puckering. My hands cup the weight, my thumbs. Leya, who a moment earlier was on her last throes, was quickly disassembling the fat girl. Alyssa pulled Leya into a clinch, but she would have none of it. She jacked her knee into Alyssa’s pussy not once, but three times before throwing her into the ropes. Reflexively, Alyssa covered up to protect her bruised womanhood. Now it was Leya’s turn to let loose with haymakers. blood sprayed from Alyssa’s mouth, and her soaked hair sprayed sweat everywhere. Leya, who was in a blind rage, held. So, I provoked him, bending down in front of him so he could look up my skirt. I would lean close so he could see my cleavage and once or twice flashed my boobs. But I never let him touch me, never. There would be no reward for him. These displays got him excited in his mind, remembering what we used to do, and then I would grab his crotch and it would be dead, lifeless, and that realisation would make him break down in tears. But my heart was hard, and my revenge had to be as spiteful as his.
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