2 comments/ 19440 views/ 2 favorites Soleil By: MoreRudeThanYou **DISCLAIMER- All characters, locations, and events in this story are purely fiction. If they happen to mirror real life events in some form or fashion then it is nothing more than coincidence. As well, all characters are eighteen or over. As well, this is dedicated to my loving husband, I hope you enjoy!** Jessica Parker sat behind her desk in her small but comfortable office, looking over a file. In the waiting room, a surly young man sat slouched in his seat, waiting to be called in. Matthew Henderson, Jessica mused to herself as she read over the file. Eighteen years old, Matthew had been kicked out of every public and private school his parents had enrolled him in over the four years of high school because of his behaviour. Skipping classes, cheating on tests, harassing other students and faculty, swearing, stealing, lying... The list went on and on. Out of desperation, the Hendersons had come to the school Jessica worked in as a last resort. Soleil Learning Center was a boarding school, privately owned and funded, specifically intended for students such as Matthew. They only accepted the most troubled and problematic students that applied. The reason for this was that Soleil offered a different program, designed to manage students like this, so that they could get the education they needed to get by in their lives. The faculty were trained to handle these students appropriately, and the place was very highly secured to keep the students on the grounds, and prevent harm from coming to either students or staff. Jessica closed the file and picked up the phone. "Sarah..yes, I'm ready for Mr. Henderson. Please send him in." Sitting back in her chair, Jessica looked over her office, waiting, and when the door opened after a moment, she stood and smiled as Matthew walked in, ignoring the hostile look she got in response. "Mr. Henderson, hello. My name is Jessica Parker. I'm very pleased to finally have a chance to meet you." Matthew's dark eyes moved quickly over the office, then finally rested on Jessica. She looked awfully young, and Matthew noticed immediately that she was a total looker. She wore a plain black skirt and white button up blouse, and had shoulder length auburn coloured hair. Her face was heartshaped and pretty, with big hazel eyes behind simple black framed glasses. As Jessica moved around the desk to offer him her hand, Matthew's eyes swept over her figure. She was soft and luscious, with full hips and large, heavy breasts. Matthew swallowed and met her gaze as he took her hand, shaking it briefly. While Matthew looked her over, Jessica took the opportunity to study the younger man. He had fair skin and black hair that was messily spiked, with dark brown eyes. His frame was lean and wiry, and he wore a pair of black jeans with holes in the knees, and a wifebeater. He was an attractive young man, and Jessica could see why it was so many had had problems with him in the past. His face had a certain quality to it that just made him..charming, and endearing, and he knew it. Jessica suspected he used this to his advantage to keep himself out of trouble for as long as he could get away with it. After shaking hands, Jessica motioned him into one of the overstuffed chairs, and once he'd dropped into it, she sat down as well. Crossing her legs, she tugged her skirt down so that she didn't expose herself indecently, and Matthew's eyes flickered over her thighs to where the line of her thigh high hose were held in place by garter straps. That's sexy, he thought to himself, and slouched in the chair. "You'll sit up please. I don't allow people to sit improperly in my office." Jessica's tone was friendly, but firm, brooking no argument. Matthew stared at her for a moment, then finally straightened. "Now then." Jessica smiles. "Welcome to Soleil Learning Center. You are a very bright young man, I'm sure, so I won't bother explaining to you why it is you're here. You already know." Matthew nodded and his eyes drifted down to her breasts. Gazing at them, his mind already started drifting, and he started to daydream about pinning this broad back on her desk, and sliding his cock between those huge, lovely breasts... "Excuse me, my eyes are located a bit further up, Mr. Henderson. I would appreciate having your attention on me, not my breasts." At the intrusion to his daydream, Matthew snapped up, looking at Jessica. He almost blushed in embarrassment, no one had ever called him out like that before. "As you know, this is a live in school, and your parents have brought your things. We've already had them taken to your room, which I'll take you to in a little bit. After that, I'll give you a tour of the grounds and we'll go over your class schedule. First, let me lay some ground rules for you." Jessica sat back and watched him, a faint smile on her lips. Shifting slightly to recross her legs, she spoke again. "There are four dormitories on our campus, two for boys, two for girls. The boys are at one end of campus, the girls are at the other. At no point in time are girls ever allowed in the boys' dorms, nor boys in the girls'. You will be given time for open socialization, which is when you may spend time in public areas with your friends, be they male or female. We have several functions a year to offer our students opportunities to socialize, such as dances, date nights, things like that. We absolutely do not discourage relations between the sexes, but we do discourage sneaking about, and things of that nature. As far as sex goes...we realize that there is nothing we can really do to stop it. Teenagers are going to want to have sex, and they'll find a way, regardless of what we do. So really," She smiles and leans forward slightly. "Our official policy is that it isn't allowed, period. Our unofficial policy is if you are going to do it, don't break our rules to do it, and don't let yourselves get caught." Matthew's eyes drifted down to Jessica's breasts again when she leaned forward, and he nodded vaguely. "We do not allow drugs on our property. This includes alcohol and cigarettes. If you're caught with them, there will be consequences. The handbook you were given goes over these consequences, and that handbook is the only warning you get, so you would do well to read it over. "We do not allow or tolerate tardiness, absences from class, skipping homework, or cheating on tests. Again, if you do these things, there will be consequences." Jessica paused, realizing she had lost Matthew's attention once more. She watched him for a long moment, then her eyes drifted down. Sure enough, she could see the telltale bulge in his jeans. Sighing a bit, Jessica stood and went to her door. As she stood, Matthew's eyes shifted to her full, round rear and he stifled a groan, trying to disguise it as a cough, shifting uncomfortably. Jessica closed the door and locked it, then turned back to look at Matthew. "You seem very distracted. Would I have your attention better if I simply showed you what you're working so hard at imagining? I really don't have time to sit here and repeat myself to you over and over because your young mind can't stay away from sex for more than thirty seconds at a time." Matthew blinked uncomprehendingly, looking at her. For the first time, he spoke, his voice a mellow bass, though fused with tension at the moment. "Say what?" Jessica walked over to stand before him. Looking down at him, she smiled. "Go ahead. Unbutton my shirt, get a good look." Matthew stared at her. Was this a trap? Was it a dream? Holy shit if it is don't let me wake up any time soon, he thought to himself. Swallowing, Matthew's hands lifted cautiously to her shirt. When Jessica just stood there looking at him, he started to undo the buttons slowly, his heart in his throat. Soon he had the blouse unbuttoned down to her navel, revealing her breasts, held in a light pink bra, and her smooth, soft belly. Matthew let out a low groan as he looked at her, then lifted his eyes to meet hers. Jessica smiled faintly, nodding to him. "Go on, then.. Touch me." With little hesitation now, Matthew's hands moved to her breasts. He cupped and squeezed them, so large his hands wouldn't fit around them. Stroking and squeezing her gently, Matthew could feel her nipples hardening, pressing through the satiny material of her bra. Jessica sighed in quiet pleasure, closing her eyes for a moment. Matthew took advantage of this and leaned in, licking at her cleavage while tightening his grip on her breasts. Jessica's eyes flew open and she looked at him, chuckling quietly. "Well. Aren't you forward." Still, she made no move to stop him, her hands moving to his shoulders to rest lightly there. Matthew grinned up at her, then bit her sharply on the breast right above the areola of her nipple. Jessica gasped and shuddered, whimpering in pain and pleasure. Encouraged further by this, Matthew's mouth moved to draw the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard on it while his hand moved down over her stomach, towards her sex. Slipping up under the skirt, Matthew traced his fingers over the inside of Jessica's thighs, teasing her with the light touch until she was trembling and panting for breath. Finally, his hand moved to her sex, to stroke her through the satin underwear she wore. Jessica groaned softly, her hips pressing towards his hand. Feeling brave, Matthew looked up at her. "Sit on the couch, Miss Parker, I want to taste you.." Jessica looked at him, arching a brow, then she smiled and nodded, moving to sit on the nearby loveseat. Matthew moved over to her and knelt down on the floor in front of her. His eyes on hers, he placed his hands on her knees and slid them slowly up her thighs. He pushed her skirt up around her hips, licking his lips as his eyes moved down over her body. She was wearing a pair of black satin panties, and he could see the damp spot already forming on them. Jessica watched him as his hands moved back to her knees, and when he gently pushed her legs further apart, Jessica smiled faintly. Matthew moved in between her legs then, kissing and nipping along her inner thighs, gradually making his way up to her sex. He could smell her arousal, a musky, intoxicating scent. "You smell good Miss Parker.." Jessica chuckled quietly, moving her hands to his head to run her fingers through his hair. "I'm glad you think so, Matthew." Matthew nodded and started to nuzzle and lick at her sex through her panties. Jessica groaned quietly and arched her hips towards him, her fingers tightening in his hair. Matthew nipped at the sensitive flesh in the crease of her thigh, causing her to jump slightly, shivering in pleasure. He continued to tease and torment her through her panties until she finally begged him to stop teasing. With a low chuckle, Matthew tugged aside the underwear, sitting back to look at her sex. She was clean shaven, except for a "landing strip". Matthew smiled in pleasure and leaned in to kiss the swollen and aching lips of her sex softly. Jessica squirmed and whimpered desperately, rocking her hips towards him. "Please!" With that, Matthew wasted no more time. He dove into her sex, devouring her with his lips, teeth and tongue, tasting her and groaning in pleasure. With his hands, he quickly unfastened his jeans and pulled his aching cock out to stroke himself as he continued to go down on her. Jessica writhed against him, gasping and moaning in desperate, pained pleasure. His teeth hurt, but it was a delicious pain, shivering through her and leaving her breathless. She could feel the tension building in her belly with a speed she hadn't expected, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he had her screaming in release. "Oh God.." she groans, her voice husky with her desire. "Oh God, Matthew, I'm going to come..." At her words, Matthew redoubled his efforts. He trapped her clit with his teeth, pinching it just enough to cause more of that delicious pain, and he started to flick his tongue rapidly over it. Jessica's eyes flew open and she arched against him, her fingers pulling at his hair roughly as she grinds her hips into his face. After just a few moments of this, Jessica felt the tension in her belly explode, and she had to bite down on her lip to keep herself from making too much noise as the orgasm ripped through her body almost violently. She bucked and shuddered and writhed against him, and Matthew kept attacking her clit as she did. Finally, finally, he let her go, and Jessica slumped back against the couch, near tears from the strength and length of the orgasm. Still shaking, she gasped for breath, her fingers loosening their death grip on his hair. Smiling, Matthew ran his tongue over her sex, licking deeply to take the taste of her release. He moved up over her body then, biting her nipple once more as he did, then he leaned in and kissed her deeply, his tongue pressing deep into her mouth. Jessica kissed him, her hands moving to hold his face as she stroked his tongue with her own, moaning at the taste of her sex in his mouth. Breaking the kiss after a few long moments, Matthew looked down at her. He rocked his hips against her, running the length of his cock along her sex. "Can I fuck you, Miss Parker?" He whispered, his dark eyes on hers. Jessica smiled slightly. "Would it stop you if I said no?" Matthew smirked. "No." "I thought not.." Matthew shifted slightly and pressed into her then. His eyes closed and he groaned as he sank into her heat, a slight shudder moving through his wiry frame. "Oh fuck you feel so good Miss Parker.." Matthew took ahold of her legs and lifted them up to wrap around his hips, then he took her hands, pinning them down by her sides. Straightening, he looked down at her as he started to fuck her with hard, deep strokes, bottoming out inside her with each thrust. Jessica moved with him as best as she could, arching her hips up to meet his deep thrusts. "Harder, Matthew..make me feel it." Matthew bared his teeth in a vicious sort of grin, and nodded once. Pausing for a moment, he readied himself, then he started to slam himself into her, hard enough to rock her body. The sounds of their flesh meeting filled the room, and the smell of them only drove Matthew on. Leaning over her to press her knees up against her chest, Matthew thrust into her faster still, grunting with his effort. Sweat dripped from his face onto her breasts, and his hair clung damply to his skin. Jessica did her best to stay quiet, but he was fucking her harder than she'd ever had it before. Her cries started to raise in volume, enough so that Matthew had to release a hand to cover her mouth. She gripped desperately at the edge of the couch with her freed hands and her screams came freely now, smothered by his hand pressed tightly against her lips. When Jessica came again, Matthew couldn't hold himself anymore and he jerked himself out of her. Shifting just enough, Matthew came on her stomach with thick, long spurts, a shudder spasming through his body with each release of his seed. When he was finally done, he slumped against Jessica's limp, sweaty body, gasping for breath. After a few moments, he lifted himself off of her, and looked down at his seed on her belly. Glancing to Jessica to find her watching him through bleary, sated eyes, he smiled faintly and leaned down to her belly. Carefully, meticulously, he licked up every bit of his seed off of her skin, nipping at her navel teasingly as he did. Jessica watched him in surprise, having never expected that. Matthew moved away from her then, standing. Casually, he tucked himself back inside his pants and rebuttoned them. Combing his fingers through his hair, he looked down at her. "Is it time for that tour of the campus, Miss Parker?" Soleil Des Iles Encounter Summer has finally come to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, after the coldest winter ever. Personally, while everyone is complaining about the blistering heat which chokes the Canadian Capital, I am loving every moment of it. I absolutely love the heat, and I wish them White folks would shut the hell up and enjoy the bright sunlight. Can't be winter forever, dammit! My name is Samira Ibrahim and I'm a young Muslim woman of Somali and Moroccan descent living in the Vanier sector. Everyone talks bad about Vanier like it's the hood, full of drug dealers and prostitutes. The truth is that it's actually a nice place full of hard-working people. It's not all crime and bullshit. Vanier is a working-class neighborhood if you ask me. Perhaps I have a bias because I'm a Francophone and no spot in the City of Ottawa is more French-friendly than Vanier. I was born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, and love my francophone roots. I miss la belle province but for now, the City of Ottawa is home. I'm in the MBA program at Carleton University and I'm not leaving the province of Ontario until I complete my degree. Color me ambitious, I guess. Clad in a bright red and blue T-shirt featuring the Montreal Canadiens logo, a long Black skirt and a modest ebony Hijab, I looked damn good and I absolutely knew it. My father, Yousef Ibrahim is originally from the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and met my mother, Mariam Fakri, while studying at the University of Montreal in the 1980s. My mother was born in Marrakesh, Morocco, and moved to Quebec for University studies. They hit it off, got married and had little old me. I've often been told that I stand out in a crowd, and it's largely due to my great height. I stand six feet two inches tall, with light brown skin and almond-shaped golden brown eyes. My features are a beautiful blend of Northeast African and Arabian, thanks to my truly unique parentage. You don't often see Somali men with Moroccan women, or Arab women of any nationality, for that matter. That's a peculiar thing in the Muslim world. Lots of Muslim men, from places like the Arab world, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Indonesia often marry African Muslim women but those same men don't like when women from their communities get with African Muslim men. My father told me that when he met with my mother's Moroccan parents, they were less than thrilled to see their precious daughter in love with a Somali guy. Even though the Holy Koran states that Muslims of all colors should marry one another and form one gloriously diverse Islamic community or Ummah. When I'm out with my parents, we get stared at a lot. For the most part, it's White Canadians staring at us but Muslims of all shades look at us as well. We are different with a capital T. The interracial Muslim couple with their awkwardly tall daughter. Welcome to my life. I ignore the bozos who stare at me and my family. Since us Muslims tend to have larger families than White Canadians, and our reproductive rate is second to none, someday we'll be the majority in Canada. Just you wait and see. That fine Sunday morning, I went for a walk from my spot off of Overbrook all the way to Prince Albert Street, before making my way to this quaint little Haitian restaurant called Soleil Des Iles. In French, it means "Sun of the Islands". I absolutely love Haitian food, and Soleil Des Iles is one of the best. There's another reason why I like going there, and it has to do with Jean-Claude, one of the regulars. Six months ago, I was walking down Mac Arthur Avenue after doing some shopping at Loblaw's supermarket one late evening when something real bad happened. You see, Vanier used to be a mostly White, French Canadian town, until a lot of us visible minorities started arriving in the 1990s. We came from Somalia, Morocco, Algeria, Djibouti, and a bunch of other countries. Slowly, we spread until we became the majority. Now Vanier is a mostly minority area, and lots of White folks don't like it. I was walking on my way home, with bags full of groceries in my hands, and that's when a trio of racist White dudes attacked me. They grabbed me and started pulling at my clothes, trying to get my Hijab off of my head. I struggled mightily but the fools were too much for me. I thought I was done for, and saw hatred and anger on their pale, jeering faces. That's when a tall, dark-skinned young man stepped out of the shadows and slammed into my three attackers. The three bigoted bozos were caught by surprise and the young man waded right into them. I picked up my handbag and hurled it into one of the bozos faces, and the dude howled in pain. I kicked him in the balls and he fell to his knees. My savior fought off the other two, and then he told me we had to leave. Like a daring vigilante in the night, or better yet, like an anonymous superhero, my rescuer escorted me to safety. Before leaving, I told him my name and he revealed himself to me. Jean-Claude, I repeated to myself as I watched the tall, dark-skinned young man as he vanished into the darkness. The brother vanished utterly, like an apparition. I was amazed, and simply awed. Imagine my surprise when I went to my favorite restaurant, Soleil Des Iles to grab some Haitian food the next day, and saw Jean-Claude standing at the counter, impatiently waiting for the griot he'd ordered. My heart thundered in my chest, and I looked into Jean-Claude's eyes. Truly it was him, my savior, and I saw recognition in his eyes. Jean-Claude smiled at me, and extended his hand for me to shake. Even though pious, Hijab-wearing Muslim sisters like myself don't usually shake hands with males, I broke with protocol and shook Jean-Claude's hand. Thus we were formally introduced, Jean-Claude and I. Smiling, I looked at the tall, dark-skinned, ruggedly handsome young Haitian man. Damn, Jean-Claude looked good in his red silk shirt, blue jeans and boots. When Jean-Claude asked me to join him for lunch, I happily acquiesced. Thus began the romance destined to change my life. Jean-Claude and I met at Soleil Des Iles, and ate some delicious Haitian food while watching television, then I excused myself and went to the restaurant basement. Five minutes later, Jean-Claude joined me downstairs. Once we were alone in that filthy, cool, darkened basement, Jean-Claude and I got our freak on. My Haitian stud can't get enough of his favorite Hijabi, and I wouldn't have it any other way... Jean-Claude and I kissed passionately, and then he boldly pulled me on top of him. Feverishly he kissed my breasts once I freed them from my bra. I whispered into Jean-Claude's ear, letting him know that I wasn't wearing any panties. Jean-Claude grinned, and slid his hands underneath my traditional Islamic long skirt. I gasped as I felt Jean-Claude's fingers slide into my wet, hairy pussy. I am a naughty Muslim chick, and my Haitian Christian boyfriend Jean-Claude absolutely loves that about me. We're freaky like that. I lay on top of a filthy table, my traditional Islamic skirt lifted, my Hijab still on, as Jean-Claude buried his face between my legs and licked my pussy. I moaned softly and rubbed Jean-Claude's head as he licked my pussy, fingering me and sending hot tendrils of pleasure coursing throughout my core. Jean-Claude's tongue teased my clitoris, and soon I was crying out his name, orgasmic, in every language I damn well knew. What can I say? My man rocks! Afterwards, Jean-Claude put me on all fours, spanked my big Muslim butt, and then eased his long and thick, uncircumcised Haitian dick into my cunt. I licked my lips, loving the feel of Jean-Claude's big dick inside my pussy. Furiously he fucked me, slamming his dick roughly into my pussy. I cried out, I moaned, I squealed and I howled as I got fucked. Jean-Claude got me right where he wanted, and we both knew it. My boo fucked me real good till he came, exploding inside of me. Panting and moaning, Jean-Claude and I were still at it in the basement of Soleil Des Iles restaurant, until the noise we made attracted attention from upstairs. You should have seen the look on the little old Haitian lady's face when she saw Jean-Claude and I fucking. Gasping, the old broad ran back upstairs. Jean-Claude and I laughed and hastily readjusted our clothes, then did the walk of shame as we left the restaurant, with everyone staring at us. Oh, well. I don't apologize for having passion in my life. I'm a biracial Muslim woman who loves the D! If you don't like it, you can kiss my ass. Soleyn Soleyn is a bitch. Though being a strong headed woman who sometimes would make the most insistent men back off, she hides a servile and hungered nature. I met her at a time when she used to roam on a dating site. Depending on her moods, she would attract home men who had succeeded in seducing her. But, if their intelligence was as high as hers, the same couldn’t be said about their sexual performances. That’s why, quite often, she contented herself with expedients nevertheless very satisfactory : she was a masturbation expert, able to push back the limits of orgasm with such an easiness that she could caress herself while reading, only getting blinded once the last page read. Sometimes, her rod urge was imperative and she used a very lengthy dildo to supplant the lack of flesh. Quickly, our first exchanges wandered on the path of eroticism. We both had common and complementary fantasies that we rapidly decided to realise. One of them was meeting couples, not only for the pleasure of swapping but also because Soleyn adores watching me making love to another woman. Not only watching me with someone else excites her, but also hearing the story of my sexual adventures with other women. And if she’s jealous of sharing me, she begs me again and again to tell her… Soleyn loves my dick. It’s not long as an arm, nor out of proportion big, but it fits perfectly into her pussy. Nothing excites her more than sucking me while rubbing her clit on my leg. I feel her juices flowing and sticking to my hair. Her mouth pumps avidly like she wants to content herself with me coming into her mouth, swallowing my sperm and hearing me moan under her tongue caress. Sometimes she says “jerk off”, eyes half shut, and she points her tongue to meet my gland emerging from my palm that slides along my shaft. She wants to see my liquor squirt on her tongue, on her breasts…But she knows I can hold on and I know she won’t be satisfied with coming on my leg. I love to make her linger. When she wants to impale herself on my pile, I sometimes force her to come like this, rubbing herself on me. According to her mood, she lets me lick her. I slide along her inner lips, I excite her clit, I drink her juices and penetrate her with my tongue. She arches when I take her clit between my lips et rub it swiftly with my tongue. She twists and moans. I grab her thighs and hold her belly still against my mouth, to prevent her from escaping my caress. She begs me to fuck her, but I want to make her come. I want to get the bitch out of her, not the woman, the bitch, the one who loves to get fucked, the one who shakes herself on my dick to come again. I want to feel, when entering her, the tightness of her pussy, contracted with pleasure. When I leave her thighs, she spreads her legs, raises them high. She offers me and my dick her shining pussy where I dig in, sometimes sliding inch by inch to feel her vagina swallow and grab me with its convulsions, sometimes with a violent thrust that nails her to the bed. And once at the bottom, I stop moving. Soleyn gets crazy. “Move” she says, and her belly moves against mine, rises to make my dick slide into her slot. “Move” she says again when I remain still, “Fuck me, I want your cock, fuck me hard”. So, I lie down on her and put my hands under her ass cheeks. I squeeze them, I grab them and I thrust, sending my pile even further. I swing my hips, I press my belly against hers, I rub the sides of her vagina to enlarge them with my dick. She follows me with her own moves. Then I stand up, put her legs on my shoulders. I grab her arms and fuck her, pulling her against me. My dick bumps into the bottom of her vagina, seeks to make itself an even deeper passage. I fuck her fast, hard, like she likes. She comes fast, hard. She wants to ride me. She reaches over me and falls down on my dick, a sharp move, roughly. She savours the stick that pierces her. Then begins a unceasing ballet, that she makes last willingly, and that I like to disturb. She rubs her clit against my pelvis while polishing my rod. Little by little, the caress becomes slippery, as her juices flow and come wetting my balls. She hold back from coming and I punctuate her pleasure by playing with her breasts. Her breasts are two big globes whose hard tits attract my mouth and fingers. I pinch them, I suck them, I bite them and I feel her pussy tighten with my bites. I mix the flesh and she shudders. She still holds herself back but I feel her thighs vibrating on my flanks, her hot juices flooding me, her oppressed breath, covered with moans. “Make me come”. I bite her tits and make her scream. I press her against me, restrain her from moving, so I can feel her pleasure spasms and the strength of her orgasm triggers another one. She falls down on me, but I force her back up. My hands on her breasts, I thrust my pelvis towards her, like a rocket to the sky and she falls back down with me, again and again…And she ignites totally, with rage, fucking my dick like a madwoman, without restrain, on the contrary to explode one last time. And she explodes. “How do you want me to take you?” I ask her. “Whatever you want” she answers. “Doggy style” I order. She gets into position, exhibiting her ass and pussy. I kneel and enter her in a long sliding move, to place my cock at the deepest of her pussy. There, very far, I feel the folds of her flesh, the sensitive spot that drives her wild. And I rub with my gland, I explore those recesses et stir up some more moans. I fuck her, consciously, deeply… Now she’s just a fleshy puppet, dazed with pleasure, powerless to hold the spasms that tear her apart. She’s just a pussy, opened, offered to the male who abuses her and fucks her so much and more. She begs for his orgasm, feeling his juice flow in her burning intimacy. But he holds back and penetrates her with all his length, tirelessly. And she can’t hold back her cries when orgasm strikes her again. He rides her, crushing her with all his weight to drive his sting deeper. He feels the orgasm building up, the terrible pleasure explosion that will leave him panting, broken down on her. She feels his cock swell deep inside her pussy and release a torrent of lava that floods her and she exults to feel him so strong and to hear him shout his pleasure.