Why has this cunt pushed in, in front of me? No fucking manners. Why can’t she just calm down for five fucking minutes? Dick. Keep breathing. Show him. Show them. Why are the decisions always on me? Why do they all fuck with me? They can’t fuck with me. Any of them. Panting, not at what I'm doing, yet, but at the shadows and echos of the outside world and your 'real life', in your head. The moronic letch who makes obvious comments about your private life. The treacherous asian 'married' who, adored by most, sidles up to you and would 'accidentally' brush his grey-slacked penis against your arse in the coffee queue, if only his gut didn't obscure it. The tedious spinsters who whisper behind their own cunt-stained fingers at the only girl in the office who's 'getting any'. If only they knew half the truth. How this noise and chaos gets dealt with. How your muscles squeeze around my fingers when my palm delivers the searing, stinging relief you need, almost as much as the orgasm you know will follow. The rope grips your wrists. You pull against it. Not to test it, but to feel cum the pressure increase around the soles of your feet, and ankles, to which your wrists are bound. The bar, spreading you wide, flexes slightly as your roll chinese your shoulders forward. This is the extent blowjob of your control. You make my rope bite harder. My fingers have brought your skin thai alive. You’ve been bound like this, tied; helplessly forced into the most exposed and open of positions for a while. Your muscles are starting to nag you, though you're distracted by the lewd display you know you're compelled to put on, with your beautiful, curved arse, high in the air. I can see your knickers becoming darker where the fabric is pulled taut. How long has it been? 10 minutes? 20? 25? The goosebumps are becoming embarrassing. You can’t hide them. You can bury your flushed, blushing face into your bed; the erectile tissue causing your hairs to stand on end is quite independent of your will. Involuntary. Smooth skin becomes dimpled, each individual dimple, apparently, sensitive to the actual ridges of my fingerprints. That Christmas was the worst Christmas of my life. The image blowjob was so disgustingly hot, Liam quickly found himself back to rocking his hips and driving his cock in and out of his sister, unable to look away. Underneath the table, Baxter -- the Great Dane sorority dog -- snored in his sleep. “Can’t wait for the party to begin Luke. The chain hanging from my clit hood was showing below my skirt and whenever anyone mentioned asian it Ryan got me to lift the front of my skirt to show whoever the whole thing. Darren told us that business was so good that he’d managed to pull together enough money to expand the place into the warehouse next thai door and they were currently chinese refurbishing the old part so when it was finished it would be a lot bigger than what we could see. But that means we must hold ourselves to a higher standard. "I'VE WORKED WITH BEAUTIES LIKE JENNA JAMESON AND LETHA WEAPONS, BUT THEY DON'T HAVE BEAUTIFUL BIG BREASTS LIKE YOURS. “No, this is not the gift” he said and smiled. "Have fun baby girl" She smiled "I'm not a baby any more daddy" he smiled back "you'll always be my baby girl" she turn and went to meet her friends. Valkyries didn’t fly so far south from the Winged Mountains, but I didn’t know what else it could be. I had Daddy's seed in my pussy and ass, and the taste of him still lingered cum in my mouth. His fingers find her nipples and pinch and twist them painfully.