Every time that Ann Suzuki moved, Betsy was shaken by the stinging pain that came from Ann Suzuki's stretched anal opening. The movies had been over for more than an hour, but it only seemed like moments ago that Rick and that man, a man that she'd never seen, had whipped and worked Ann Suzuki's into that long series of orgasms in the back row. The little brunette nervously ran a finger from Ann Suzuki's own lips down over her chin and to her throat. Ann Suzuki wanted to make sure that none of the dried cum was still on Ann Suzuki's too. Kathy hadn't said a word to her when Ann Suzuki finally appeared from behind the screen and staggered up the stairs to the lounge. Consumed by curiosity she'd followed the older girl and watched
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