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Christina herself was now busily licking the tip of my cock, flicking her tongue across the underside of it, then swirling it in a tight circle, she had quite a talent for blowjobs. This didn't last long though, as Christina lifted herself off me and got down on all fours.I didn't hesitate to get behind her and line up my dick with the opening to her pussy, "Are you ready?" I asked, though I probably shouldn't have. "Of course I am, that is why I'm bent over like this." So I eased myself in slowly, entering a little, then pulling out and pushing back in just a little bit harder. "I really need to orgasm, can you please move faster?" Her wish was my command, I thrust forcefully into her wet pussy, shoving myself in to the hilt, then pulling out quickly and shoving right back in. I managed to time my thrusts at a decent pace, not too exhausting, but fast enough to make her gasps for air become short moans of pleasure. Her breasts swayed seductively under her and I just had to squeeze. She was just as beautiful as he had always imagined her: all curves and sugar, and then some. He mouthed an absent-minded 'holy crap' as his eyes grew the size of saucers with every determined stride Claire took towards him, making her pendulous breasts move in rhythm with her step, her deep belly button jiggle just that sexy little bit. Unconsciously, he put his computer aside and sat on the edge of his bed to receive her.Once standing right in front of him, she grabbed his head and pressed it between her breasts. His hormones having forgotten all about his girlfriend, he grabbed her breasts and slapped them against his face from either side. He'd always wanted to try that.Claire stepped back and pulled the waistband of his sweatpants over his growing manhood with one expert motion and stroked him to full erection. At her experienced tug, he couldn't take his eyes off hers. The only faint thought he wasted thinking about his girlfriend was the realization that the latter would never.
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Taking advantage of his cheery demeanor, his wife had pulled up her dress and let him fuck her from behind in their tiny kitchen. Tossing him an apple as he left through the doorway, she smiled, “Go hurt the deserving unpatriotic bitches, my big hard husband!”He loved this part of his day and especially on the first of the month, or ‘marking day’, as it had become known. Every woman held prisoner in the dungeons knew it was the first of the month when they started hearing the unrelenting screams travelling from cell to cell. And the horrid distinct smell of branded burned flesh.Now standing in front of prisoner #113, he held in his large right hand, a filthy fly covered bowl. Never cleaned out in all the years he had worked as a guard in the ‘cells’. In his other hand he held the steel branding tool he would soon use on this sweet enslaved woman.……A woman still somewhat new to the dungeon, only just finishing her third month of a thirty six month sentence. She had been fun to.

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