Indian Desi Wife's Chudai

He placed me on my back and propped mylower half with a big pillow.If anything, the pain was worse, when he re-entered me. My limp dickflopped along with the thrusts and my yelps, emphasizing how useless Iwas for anything except being used. Maybe I was getting used to the pain,as I started feeling the heat of arousal. I was getting fucked, withintense physical sensations of full reality, while looking like a veryhot big-titted slut, with ruined heavy make-up and messed up hair.In a blink it wasn't me getting fucked, but Richard's girl. She deservedto be punished for being impertinent, but the punishment was just masterbeing rough, and she looked so sexy squirming on dick.I moaned through a sob. "Oh, master..."Richard stopped moving. "Are you beginning to like it?"I looked at him and bit my lip. If I looked aroused, the rape would besexy and not horrible."I love your dick, master," I lied and Richard's girl said.He grinned and continued on with the thrusts.I concentrated on the. It did indeed look like something that should belong on a bull. The huge pouch beneath it rolled silently of its own accord. As he kicked his pants away, it all slapped loudly and heavily against his thigh. A rutting scent emanated from it, barely noticeable from where Nina sat five feet away. Even flaccid, the image was that of a weapon. He’d walked over and placed one foot squarely on her chest, between her breasts. He pushed her down onto her back as easily as he’d broken Cindy’s finger. After taking a moment to admire her nudity (she dared not cover herself), he’d walked up. His feet moved on either side of her body. He stopped when he was standing directly across her breasts, her gaze on the lewd display of his heavy, soft member and other intimate areas. Fear chewed at her core. The same foot again landed on her chest, so that he stood over her like conquered land. The spot where he’d punched her, near the top of her breast, ached. It was bruising quickly. She silently thanked.
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