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“Tell me what happened”. Again, he thrilled inwardly at the wanton look blowjob in her eyes while she reflected for a moment before beginning her story. “I was on a lecture tour, amongst the German-speaking communities. There is an academy in Gothny, Alaniya – near your home, Pavel”. After delivering her presentation to a room half-full of elderly Volkdeutsch who knew nothing about her cumshot work nor about poetry in general, Ingrid had left the academy building and set off to walk along the harbour front in the warm evening air. The docks were badly lit and almost completely deserted. She passed a pool of light from the window of a lonely café then strolled along a desolate wharf, listening to the quiet lapping of the water against the slimy stonework of the harbour wall. In the moonlight, she saw a tobacco kiosk on the corner where a road joined the quayside. It was painted a rusty red and covered with graffiti and tattered political posters. As she approached, she realised that it had been abandoned; the hatch was not properly closed because two hinges were missing from the shutter, which hung uselessly open. Following some obscure impulse, she went over to look inside. She found that by bending at the waist she could just squeeze her head and shoulders through the small opening where cigarettes and money had been exchanged and into the stygian blackness beyond, where the interior smelled of dust and rotten timber. She was resting her elbows on the counter top waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness when she heard footsteps on the cobbles behind her. Her first instinct was to free herself from her compromising position and walk on briskly to the better-lit end of the street, but something stopped her. Male voices were coming closer and she could easily imagine how she would appear to them, just a woman’s lower half bent over a rough and flaking worktop, the head and arms lost from sight, and it was this capricious thought that determined her to remain trapped at the waist and find out how they would behave. “You want to touch yourself, don’t you?” Pavel asked. “Do you want me to”? “Use only a little finger - the left” he ordered and watched as she slid the digit slickly between her wet and welted cunt-lips to circle slowly around her erect clit. It used to amuse him to make Eva excite herself this way, but he wasn’t thinking of her as Ingrid continued the story. There were perhaps a dozen voices – she was never sure how many – and they were speaking a language she did not even recognise. She heard an exclamation of surprise, followed by coarse laughter, and then the sound of their heavy boots closing in around her. They fell silent, save for mutterings and suppressed chuckles, as one man addressed her in a bantering tone of voice. She had no idea what he said but, guessing at his intent, she wiggled her hips invitingly. There were calls and whistles from the men public and more laughter. Then a powerful slap landed on her left buttock, slamming her hips into the woodwork and sounding unnaturally loud in her private darkness. She let out a startled gasp, then began to roll her hips like a dancer; it was the only way she could let them know how much this treatment excited her. More talking, and then another slap, and another, mixed with the sound of footsteps and a rhythmic chanting which she guessed was their counting out the blows in their mysterious language. She kept her position while they took turns at spanking her or, at least, slut she managed to arch her back and present her arse for fresh punishment after each swat. There was a ragged cheer after the final, and especially forceful, smack. The men tits fell silent. She could hear only their breathing, some shuffling and rustling, and then there was an arm snaking around her waist to the front of her jeans. "THIS FINAL ROUND WILL BE A CONTEST OF BOTH WILL AND STRENGTH," explained the MC. Even with Ayana flat on her back, they were still perky, especially her dark navy nipples. I had hoped Grandma lived long enough to see the ultrasound of her second great-grandchild. Mrs. Armstrong rubbed her fingers up and down her daughter's slit, caressing her, massaging her twat. Roger saw this and it made him hornier. "Oh, fuck!" I heard her underclothes drop to the floor and I felt the bed shift. Poor bloke, his trousers must have been real uncomfortable that night. Thinking about making these girls blush as slut I drilled in and out of Yuqiao’s public tight pussy I came so fast. I heard cabinet doors shutting and the distinct sound of ceramic plates touching down on stone, the refrigerator door swung open. He had to. Pinkie shrilled as she watched her big breasts stretching off her chest, the flesh and muscle tearing as the elastic boobs turned to dark crimson tit balls and pulling the tit flesh further than imaginable as the cords harnessed an incredible strain on her nipples and tore blowjob the holes cumshot even wider open as the spectators looked on tits in shock and amazement. He stopped the metronome, took the feather off and showed it to me. It was saturated. “Where did you remove the clothing,” the officer asked.