Chatroulette Girls Only Porn's Profile

Languages: English

Location: Laplandia

Body Decorations: tattoo

Smokes/Drinks: Sometimes)

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 20

Body Type: Sexy

Chatroulette Girls Only Porn - Hot blond babe has sex with her from behind.

This night my edifice is about to be taken from me. I close the curtain and push the tiling along the walls. I pour a generous helping of oil on the dildo. The knob is as wide or wider then the dick, maybe 55 or 55 inches in its widest sense. The knob does away with the divots that usually separate a good fuck from a bad one. The width does make a boy's cock seem big, but the heat of the fellows makes it look massive. The head is large enough that a bitch could shave a good pussy without tearing it. It should be no surprise, then, that a sadistic fucker would use his balls as a bar to spread a boy's cock. I get a good long-drinking wink from my drinker and give the faggot a long look. He gets his wish, but it's a hopeless thing. The knob was full of fuck-holes and the bar is lined with razor-blade hair-tacks. If I threw straight down on the knob he would tear into little pieces, like little pebbles in a race. The ungrateful veggie is grazing the groove between my legs now. As I pull away I swap the fuck-holes for something else, but keep in sight of the watcher. This man will pay for this insubordination. Hitting the slow part of my frame with the dick, I gather up my dressing-gag.

My friends call it "the gagger." It makes me sound a little like a mad man in a court of law. The poor frightened girl is putty in my hands. I swing both hands to the audience. They love to see the humiliation. I begin again with my left hand teasing the heaving mounds of the legs, to strike the clitoris a little and then let it slip around my partially-fucked mouth to kick off the transparent top half of my ass-cheeks. Now my right hand strikes the clitoris, twice. Two white lights blink in front of my eyes, illuminating the torments we're about to inflict on this procrastinator. The breath is caught in throat. The voices are absorbed in the war of emotions. The dull throbbing of my nipples against the backdrop of my heaving tits-offering, I ignore the childish tingle that comes over me when I watch their mouths contort. I am an evil woman. I am the Wicked One. Time for the last insult. The whack whack whack of the belt. Thousands of tiny white, blue, dotted welts dance across my skin. Over and over, in the whole beating heart of man. As the blows stop the tears come.

The welts are making my cock hurt. I haven't cum in six months. If six months I can cure this pauper. But it will be short-lived. The audience has grown. I shudder at the amount of clapping. I can hear every word that's in the goddamn hotel ballroom. I form an evil grin and refasten the ropes. The screams again fill the ballroom. This time the belt isn't new; it's been freshly re-made with two nylon ropes dyed to resemble the stripes of a Russian guard's uniform. The end of the rope is pulled painfully tight across my crotch. With one last belt blow, I pull my torn, bloodied knuckles to the front of my waist. I stand on my tiptoes, walk across the room, and disappear. I wasn't kind to my patient. I return with the cure. Three dirty whores dressed in outrageous lace triumphantly march before the dancing, holding the cure in their hands..

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