Bongacams Casais Que Fazem Sexo's Profile

Languages: Español / English With Translate

Location: Colombia

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 22

Body Type: Petite - Skinny - Natural

Bongacams Casais Que Fazem Sexo - It's a wet and wild in this bukkake clip!

Addiction issues? Nah. This looks like sh*t." "If I remember correctly, was your mother's maiden name?" "No. But my grandmother had quite a crush on her..." "Well, I'm not about to let a virgin walk around with your mouth gaping, aren't you?" He pulled on my panties. It was a full-contact, camel toe, rubber in the crotch, stinging, a goes-to tongue in my sopping wet mouth. My breasts bounced and rolled as his hands dug deep into my hips and hands wormed their way down to my shaved pubes. Searing pain shot through my nipples, making them arch, the delicate tissue at the tip of the clit that is often neglected. "You have no idea the distance I had to put on my clothes to gain entry." So I really did put on some wimpy stuff, I had to be careful not to cut myself off anytime soon, and, considering the other footage, I did my best to hide my dripping wet mounds from his prying hands. From my vantage point at the window, my Master drank in the sight of this spectacle with clear eyes. He was obviously a cock-hungry, nipple-poaching, arse-hugging, butt-filling, vagina-eating, flaming-fingered, face-rolling, urbanched-aborted-to-face kinda gal. I enjoyed filming this on a regular basis, but I could not be bothered to keep up appearances in the bathroom, let alone in this state.

Content, I said as my hands roamed over my crotch and balls. “Good girl,” my Master said as he cupped my swollen labia and gently rolled one between my thumb and forefinger. I groaned involuntarily, but kept the sounds of my sobbing out of my mouth. My Master took his index finger and quickly jabbed it in as far as he could, sending my back arcing out like a saw horse. “Aiiiiiiii” I groaned, my eyes swimming in the gloom. “Please, Sir.” I begged, “please” “I’m not kidding.” my Master murmured, his finger stroking my clit. “Please fuck me, Sir.” “Oh, please?” “Again, Sir” I groaned, “please” “just fuck you?” “Sure, but just a bit more.” “Do you want me to keep quiet?” “I'd hate to ruin your little joke,” my Master replied, jutting a bulging triangle of muscle in my face, “just a bit more…” “No, please…” “I’m not kidding!” I said, desperate now, growing bolder, my focus shifting to the darkness. I was lost in a dark fantasy, a deep desire to feel my Master squirm and quiver. That was an experience all on it’s own, though, and I liked it. I was bound to my Masters word, and I would do anything, and the line between fantasy and reality was blurry. It all seemed one to me…was more than one line.

I’d go crazy if I let myself go, a feeling of danger in letting my imagination run free, a dangerous road that could put me in danger no matter how careful I were. I opened my eyes, slowly, and I heard the unmistakable snapping of leather against bone. I jerked forward, my arm slamming into a chair, sending a ringing, piercing sensation through my arm. I knew my Master was behind me, my arm slamming into the wood, feeling the sting. “Damn!” I said to myself, shaking my head violently, “that’s for damn!” I tried to shield my vision, but the leather hit my forehead, my cheek into the hard row of small beads that ran down the front of my body. I looked down, my nose running up and down the rows of beads, my lip curved up in a cruel twist. I tried to evade his angry gaze, but he caught me. “You said I could have that” I said, “but I didn’t,” “dammit!” I spat out, feeling as if I was back on my toes, head down, every fiber of my being crying out for release. I felt his hand instinctively roll my shoulder, forcing me forward until I was beside him, my stomach and upper body quivering. “You know you want it,” he said in a commanding tone, “you know you want it..

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