A groan escapes him. She'd be loud, too, he just knows it. She'd take him so well, and she'd beg for more. She'd say his name, and she'd say how badly she needs him, and she'd cry out as he drove into her. He'd suck a bright mark onto her neck.  Mine.  She'd wear it the next day for them all to see, and they'd all know how he'd filled her the night before, how he'd—he gasps—he'd filled her with his cum, and she'd screamed and squeezed him so tight and promised to be his, and her hair, and her soft breasts, and—