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Nothing happened. He hit it again, still nothing. Cursing, he opened the battery compartment. And swore even louder. ‘You little shit!’ ‘Hey, calm down, dickhead. I never said it had batteries.’ Harry smiled again. ‘Well, lucky for you, I do.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own phone (which happened to be the exact same one), removed the battery and put it into my phone. It powered on, much to our displeasure. He shielded it from the rain and started scrolling through my contacts list, looking for Coach Kay’s cell number. I didn’t have it, luckily. He finally noticed and muttered to himself, ‘For fuck’s sake, this is proving to be more trouble than it’s probably worth.’ He looked at me quickly and continued scrolling through my contacts, and asked, ‘What’s his number?’ Cody and Liv stared at me. I knew it, but I was hardly about to tell him. ‘Why would we tell you, Harry?’ He stopped scrolling and looked up at me. I continued, ‘You’re just gonna shoot us.’ He had. That slapping sound filed the room, slap…slap…slap. As the arousal grew, it became slap…slap…slap until the climax approached and it became slap..slap..slap.slap.slap! That noise was accompanied by grunts, moans and ugh, ugh, ugh as, finally, Matt rammed hard against Millie, grinding against her as he sent a flood of impregnating sperm deep into her vagina, sending it against the small opening in her cervix and into her womb! At the same time, Millie had been thrashing against Matt in orgasm before holding herself rigid against him, a receptacle for the jetting cum. At last, passion and energy exhausted, they slumped down together and just lay there, satiated and unmoving. For Katie and Matt watching the recording the finish was anti-climactic. As instructed, after a few minutes of cuddling against ‘Jeff,’ Millie quietly went to sleep as Matt got up and stopped the recording, ending the show. Back in the condo, there was complete silence for a minute or two as they absorbed what.
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