Busty model riding stud and can't get enough

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mother’s joy was unfeigned and unfettered, “I’m so happy for you and Eric!” “It’s a boy.” “Well, you can’t know that yet.” Mother smiled crookedly at me, “Everyone always proclaims it’s a boy, and half are disappointed.” “But I know.” I said, resting my other hand on my belly, “And I have decided to name him Clartias, after his father.” “After your father.” Mother corrected with a small laugh. studs “Yes, that too.” I chuckled back. Mother laughed with me for a second, then her smile slowly faded. A frown creased her lips when she looked at me, and I stared implacably back. Then her frown unhinged, and her eyes went wide, and I saw in their depths the pieces aligning. Every little suspicion she’d denied and discarded, every whisper she’d decided not to hear, every spot of red lipstick on Father’s collar she decided was the result of a shaving error. They clicked into perfect place behind her eyes, and the mosaic they made was of a horror worse than the gallows or the noose. For I’d taken her past, her very identity, and I’d shattered it. God, it was beautiful. “No.” She whispered, unable to give voice to the words. “Yes,” I smiled broadly, “ever since I was Hardcore fifteen, Father has loved me. Not you, Mother, never you. You were only ever a means couple to an end for him, and that end was me. I made sure of it.” “No.” She couldn’t believe it, “No.” “The truth is always so painful.” I laughed at her, “Though in your case, I suspect babe the lie is quite excruciating as well. But don’t worry, Mother, I’m here for you.” I pulled the lever beside the door, and the chain that linked Mother’s wrists to the ceiling grew taut. She was forced upright with her hands overhead, and I made sure to crank the lever until her ankles and wrists were white with pressure. Then I opened the door, and dropped my bag of goodies on the floor before her. “You know, I’ve never tortured someone before. I’ve had people tortured, of course; it’s a necessary evil of spycraft, and while it can be gruesome, I’ve found at times that it can also be quite… exhilarating.” I pontificated as I searched my bag, “There’s a sexual aspect to it that people rarely talk about. Oh, people rarely talk about such a taboo subject as it is, but when they do it’s always about the victim. They never talk about the torturers.” I pulled out a knife, and turned to Mother with a broad smile on my face. She just gawked at me, her eyes so wide they seemed to pop from her skull. “The torturers love their victims,” I sauntered over to her, twirling the knife between my fingers, “for they give them unfettered truth.” I stopped before Mother, so close I could nearly taste her breath. “Isn’t that all sex is? A desire to make someone react to you with whole-hearted honesty? Even the most descriptive sonnet cannot translate as much truth as a single breathy moan.” I slid the knife’s blade slowly up her thigh, watching the terror rising in her eyes, “Or one ear-splitting shriek.” I stopped a hair’s breadth from her slit, her womanly heat radiating onto my hand, “Tonight, we are blowjob going to be very, very honest with each other, Mother.” I slashed upward. Mother screamed, but it was only with the expectation of pain. I breathed in, but I could only smell the tangy musk of my twin sister's and my own pussy. “Oh that does not taste so bad. I thought as I rubbed it more furiously, 'I like blowjob you much better like this: just a small side note to the real action - you like to be pleased like before right? Ow!” she protested, having no choice but to follow. She is tempted to masturbate, but instead spends the rest of the night studying the personnel files of all her nurse supervisors. “I'll monitor the owner,” I added. She turned her attention to Mr. Wolfe and he led her deeper into the crowded room. Her eyes glanced over his muscles as he sat back down, not wanting to make it socially awkward by letting him see that she was enjoying the view. This was enough for one day Ian decided and took his hand out of her panties. I was dead nervous. Your punishment is no clothes and no Cumming. Vallerie's life before the pill was especially tragic. "Yeah, it's what you think it is, bitch. Then she looks up as the baker lays his bulk on top of her. Philip’s eyes went wide as he realised what she was about to do. It was so couple warm and tight as my member pushed her Hardcore supple walls apart, but she was so wet I could slide into her effortlessly. I breathed in her spicy musk. She even enjoyed kissing her. She pumped those tits faster and faster, squeezing them around my dick. The fast pumping of my hand up and down my shaft caused my tip to dance around. I shoved studs him back against the bed, my frustrated boner waggling in the breeze. Soon it all fit, a snug, fit. “Ooh that's nice”. ‘You intrigue me. It was an accident that I saw Sheru going into the bushes. You look at her closed eyes and the red scarf as you softly kiss her lips and each side of her neck. I turned on my side babe inside the sleeping bag and was met with the image of Sofia’s pretty face as she slept soundly in the sleeping bag next to me. I watched her for a few minutes before building up the courage to leave the warm confines of my sleeping bag.