I… no, I can't believe this… what the hell is going on?!
Olivia and I covered the two kilometers from 12th Avenue in just a few minutes—thanks to our inhuman speed.
Even so, it's obvious that while I was running at my limit, he wasn't even close to using his full strength.
And when we reached the pier…
I couldn't keep my eyes on the scene for more than a few seconds.
Damn it, what a revolting sight… I feel like throwing up.
Melania was bent forward, her back arched, her hands pressed against the wall.
Her shorts and panties are down to her knees, her shirt thrown on the ground, her bra pushed halfway down her chest—her breasts, far too generous for a twelve-year-old, stand out in the silver light of the moon.
A man, no less than forty, is standing behind her, holding her tightly by the hips—fucking her from behind with surreal frenzy.
Another, also middle-aged, is in front of her, his cock shoved into her mouth.
