He clicked to the next photo. Emma's eyes were closed, her mouth open in a silent cry. Flushed cheeks, jet-black hair matted to her forehead. The next... she was biting down on her lip while he grabbed her breast. His other hand was holding one of her legs up high as he thrust deep into her. He wallowed in the memory.The stills were from the last third of the video, when everything was intense and completely genuine; at the beginning they tended to play to the camera somewhat, as if trying to. She smiled timidly. She looked so beautiful. Her hair was pulled back. She didn't have any make-up on, not that she needed any. At least in my humble opinion.Once again, her eyes looked tired and worried. It was like she had to fight to smile."Good morning," I said softly. Wondering if our friendship was over.She didn't reply, but when I sat down on the couch next to her, she slipped her hand into mine almost automatically.The curtains were drawn just enough to see outside. From our room at the. More

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