Lodged at my backdoor, his hands clamped my upper arms before the monster began surging forward. I cried out ecstatically, in acceptance of this blissful intrusion.Once all in, his strong arms clamped my body as his mouth prolonged its oral onslaught on my hitherto unmarked back. It was like I had a predator that had not made a kill in over a week, on my back. Engulfed by his manly haze, I was in heaven. As Evans’ manly smell further amplified, and his ardour flourished, I became totally enslaved by my fisherman that night. After fifteen years of being gay, I was finally being fucked by a real man.Soon, he began pumping my manhole with meaning. When Evans came again, I had already shot the biggest load of my life.Between brief naps the gnarled log, which I had almost balked at earlier, continuously foraged in my contented den. The intensity of his lovemaking had become like a drug to me, and I felt like a junky mainlining with the purest heroin on the market.When Evans was finally. Jenni would struggle against her bonds while the sultan laughed, deep and menacing. While he ravaged her. His lips would bruise, his strong hands would hold her arms to the bed while he painstakingly undressed her, item by item, embarrassing her, exposing her to the night and the rest of the women. She would imagine the feeling of his hard cock against his silken pants, against her swollen skin. The ache of fear, the tingle of anticipation. She fantasized through college and while her roommate slept she would whisper to the dark: "Ooh, let me go."The fantasies made her wet. She loved the scent of her wet pussy and the way it felt to walk in public with her thong soaked in sweet juices, watching men react instinctively to the aroma as she passed. She was waiting for her kidnapper today, wandering the mall and looking distractedly into the display windows at various stores. He had not told her where he would take her, only that he would be there, watching and waiting. She shivered with.
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