Ascension Lolita Idol electric rotor over 3 years Ago, 0 Views, 0 Comments
Freshman gives HUGE cock a blowjob over 3 years Ago, 0 Views, 0 Comments
A pretty freshman dressed in leather and fishnets, teases and plays with one guys huge cock, while she is being fingered by another guy.
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Prostitute Daughter with Vaginalitis over 3 years Ago, 0 Views, 0 Comments
This little gem won several local awards in Yugoslavia for most realistic
plot, best dialogue, and even most influential male and female role
Sex with Office Woman
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I AM SUCH A TEASE over 3 years Ago, 0 Views, 0 Comments
I'm working on a new project. But I, being the die-hard tease that I am, can't hold back. I mean, I ought to wait until I'm ready to reveal. Instead, I'm going to give you a tease: ***** “I read about a place downtown. Near the Mission District.” I knew exactly what type of “place” he meant. Killian had started by circling the topic slowly, “Do you ever think about having sex while people are watching?” He often slipped the vision into my psyche while we were fucking, murmuring dirty things when we were in the shower, or raising the idea while screwing me on the roof top. Right now, he was thrusting into me from behind, while I supported myself on the window sill. “Maybe people are watching,” I responded, my eyes shut in case I was telling the truth. “But to know,” he said, breathing against my neck, his cock so hard inside of me. “To know for sure that they were watching, touching themselves, getting off when you reached your limits. Wouldn’t that make you come?” “You’re going to make me come.” He was. The way he fucked me, hands on my waist, fingers gripping into my skin, teeth searching for purchase on the ridge of my shoulder blade—oh, Killian has never failed to bring me to the cusp. To keep me teetering. To push me over. “Well how about this,” he said, withdrawing so suddenly that I was left empty and confused. I looked over my shoulder at him, not wanting to beg, not wanting to appear as desperate as I felt inside. Killian likes that need in me, and when he sees a glimpse, he pounces. Now, he turned me around, so I was perched on the sill, and he spread my legs wide open. I could hardly breathe as he bent to his knees and began to lick and bite the insides of my thighs, alternating, first a nibble on the left, then a love bite on the right. Back and forth, so that I had to put my hands on his strong biceps to keep myself steady. I thought about the fact that I was now mooning our neighbors. But we live in the city. We don’t know our neighbors. That’s what Killian always says, anyway: Don’t worry about strangers. Worry only about us. Honestly, at this moment, I couldn’t worry about anything except coming. The fact that he was tracing a treasure map of pleasure on the insides of my inner thighs. At the split of my body. At that spot that would have me screaming his name if he kept dishing up those magic tricks with his tongue. But then he stopped once more. His mouth hovered a sliver of space from my pussy. All he had to do was flick his tongue out from between his lips and tap on it, rap on it, playing me a rhythm, making me his instrument. I’d be his drum section and let him smack my skins. I’d be his woodwind and let him blow me. For an instant, I wanted to cry. I hated that feeling of being robbed of pleasure. “Wouldn’t you like it, Doll? If people were watching. If all those eyes were on you—you gorgeous fucking thing.” And then he took the fantasy up one more level, easily, almost casually. “What if he stepped in. What if he took over from me? What if he was touching you the way I’m touching you?” The “he” was never further described, the pronoun a mere placeholder, keeping the spot warm for a nameless man who appeared when Killian called him. A stranger as Dom as my husband, who would cut in on the action, like a partner cutting in on a dance. My mind often slid different actors into the role. People I’d seen in movies. Husbands of old friends. Customers who stopped by my second-hand store. Who the “he” represented was ultimately unimportant. The fact that Killian wanted another man to fuck me—that was the part that poured pure kerosene on the flames of our desires. His mouth touched me then. Lips pressed against my sleek, smooth skin. Tongue slipping between my nether lips to treat my clit to a sensation in spirals. And in a flash, I could feel those eyes on me, imagine the rush of excitement that would ripple through my entire body at the knowledge that an audience was watching every move I made, every toss of my hair, every flutter of my eyelids. The fact that another man would part my legs, slip his cock into me, thrust hard so that I’d feel him pounding to my core—that was the vision that thrilled me. Killian looked up right then, and I saw satisfaction on his face. He’d won. He knew it. But even though he’d been victorious, I was the one to come. My hands tightened in his thick, red hair. my whole body tensed. The force of the climax was unexpectedly powerful. He’d been teasing my clit for so long that my body had grown accustomed to the plateau of pleasure. When he made a ring with his lips and sucked, I felt almost as if he’d swallowed me up. The pleasure radiated through me. To the very tips of my fingers, to my eyelashes, to the rounded edges of my glossy dark-blue nails. “He’ll fuck you, Jordy,” Killian whispered. “In front of everyone. And they’ll all know what I know. They’ll all know what a dirty little slut you really are.” My cheeks burned. But I wondered if—in spite of his confidant words—he could handle the reality of this scene. What would it do to Killian to see another man taking control of me. Breaking through a crowd of people and putting one hand on my shoulder. Forcing me down to my knees. Making me behave for him. Christ, it was all Killian’s fault. That was the truth. He was the one who had initiated this fantasy. He was the one who made the scene so real in my mind that I could feel a stranger’s fingertips stroking my skin, look up and stare into another man’s eyes. “Oh, they’ll all see you,” Killian assured me. I shook my head. I bit my lip. And then I whispered. “Yes.” *** All right. That's the start. The tip. The point at the very top of a soft-swirl cone....