slightest whim.
The distraught woman let her lips circle around the bulbous head of the killer’s cock. He gave a soft sigh as the warmth of her mouth transferred itself to his manhood. Slowly, she pressed her lips downwards, subsuming the meat inside her and over her tongue, letting the man feel the pleasure of the gentle pressure on his thickening shaft. As the rod grew harder, the combination of the male odor of his loins, the taste of his flesh and the soft textured hardness in her mouth made her lust begin to grow. “Oh, God,” she thought, “Why am I here? Why am I doing this? How will this all end?”
Determined to bring a swift conclusion to this, her most recent ordeal, Margie began to work her lips up and down the man’s shaft quickly. He placed his hard, powerful hand on her head and grabbed her hair. “Do it slowly, cunt. And don’t let me come until I tell you.”
Margie shivered at the man’s order. He might make her do this for an hour, or more! It would be hard to hide her arousal. And what if she made a mistake and his cock spouted its warm, viscous fluids before he was ready? She had already been beaten by him twice and didn’t want to experience it again.
Slowly, deliberately, Margie worked her lips up and down the man’s hardened pole. The boat rocked slightly as it drifted at anchor and she had to spread her knees wider to keep her balance. There was a slight breeze over the lake and it felt good on her naked body. The night was silent except for the occasional calling of a night bird, the faint sound of the boat swishing on the water and the occasional, muted sounds of distress from the woman below decks. Her eyes were closed, intent on her task, but she could hear the man take an occasional drink of his bottle or the sigh of his breath as he released a cloud of smoke from his cigar. He groaned from time to time as she did her best to please him. She used her tongue diligently to stroke his shaft. She circled his knob with her lips and tickled the tiny exit hole on top with the tip of her tongue, she varied her motions, giving him long, languorous strokes almost all the way down to his balls and then short, staccato ones until she heard him moan with delight and became afraid that she might make him come by accident.
The sensation of his member in her mouth was making her passions grow higher and higher. She yearned to move one of her imprisoned hands between her thighs and stroke her puss. She was beginning to become overwhelmed with the passionate act in which she was engaged. She tried to suppress it, but she was not successful, and a low, impassioned moan escaped her lips.
Diego was sitting back, looking at the stars and enjoying the working of the woman’s lips on his crank. She was good for a gringa . Of course, only genuine Latina women knew how to suck a cock properly. He remembered when he was younger and just learning his trade, he and a few of his teenage friends had lifted an American college student off of the streets of Caracas . They had used her for three days before they dumped her body out in the swamps beyond the city. The crying, hysterical girl couldn’t suck a cock worth a damn. But she had wonderful tits. He felt a twinge of remorse for what they had done to the beautiful girl. But the thing of it was, no matter how many beautiful young women you used up, there were always more. They kept coming and coming and their delightful bodies and pretty faces just begged for violation.
The killer’s mind returned to the mouth which circumnavigated his dick at the present moment. He heard the girl moan and realized that sucking his cock was getting her off. He laughed at her wantonness. She should be thankful, he thought, that she got to suck the famous cock of Diego Badoya before she died. He doubted that she would live to tell anyone, but it was an experience that no woman should miss before she
The distraught woman let her lips circle around the bulbous head of the killer’s cock. He gave a soft sigh as the warmth of her mouth transferred itself to his manhood. Slowly, she pressed her lips downwards, subsuming the meat inside her and over her tongue, letting the man feel the pleasure of the gentle pressure on his thickening shaft. As the rod grew harder, the combination of the male odor of his loins, the taste of his flesh and the soft textured hardness in her mouth made her lust begin to grow. “Oh, God,” she thought, “Why am I here? Why am I doing this? How will this all end?”
Determined to bring a swift conclusion to this, her most recent ordeal, Margie began to work her lips up and down the man’s shaft quickly. He placed his hard, powerful hand on her head and grabbed her hair. “Do it slowly, cunt. And don’t let me come until I tell you.”
Margie shivered at the man’s order. He might make her do this for an hour, or more! It would be hard to hide her arousal. And what if she made a mistake and his cock spouted its warm, viscous fluids before he was ready? She had already been beaten by him twice and didn’t want to experience it again.
Slowly, deliberately, Margie worked her lips up and down the man’s hardened pole. The boat rocked slightly as it drifted at anchor and she had to spread her knees wider to keep her balance. There was a slight breeze over the lake and it felt good on her naked body. The night was silent except for the occasional calling of a night bird, the faint sound of the boat swishing on the water and the occasional, muted sounds of distress from the woman below decks. Her eyes were closed, intent on her task, but she could hear the man take an occasional drink of his bottle or the sigh of his breath as he released a cloud of smoke from his cigar. He groaned from time to time as she did her best to please him. She used her tongue diligently to stroke his shaft. She circled his knob with her lips and tickled the tiny exit hole on top with the tip of her tongue, she varied her motions, giving him long, languorous strokes almost all the way down to his balls and then short, staccato ones until she heard him moan with delight and became afraid that she might make him come by accident.
The sensation of his member in her mouth was making her passions grow higher and higher. She yearned to move one of her imprisoned hands between her thighs and stroke her puss. She was beginning to become overwhelmed with the passionate act in which she was engaged. She tried to suppress it, but she was not successful, and a low, impassioned moan escaped her lips.
Diego was sitting back, looking at the stars and enjoying the working of the woman’s lips on his crank. She was good for a gringa . Of course, only genuine Latina women knew how to suck a cock properly. He remembered when he was younger and just learning his trade, he and a few of his teenage friends had lifted an American college student off of the streets of Caracas . They had used her for three days before they dumped her body out in the swamps beyond the city. The crying, hysterical girl couldn’t suck a cock worth a damn. But she had wonderful tits. He felt a twinge of remorse for what they had done to the beautiful girl. But the thing of it was, no matter how many beautiful young women you used up, there were always more. They kept coming and coming and their delightful bodies and pretty faces just begged for violation.
The killer’s mind returned to the mouth which circumnavigated his dick at the present moment. He heard the girl moan and realized that sucking his cock was getting her off. He laughed at her wantonness. She should be thankful, he thought, that she got to suck the famous cock of Diego Badoya before she died. He doubted that she would live to tell anyone, but it was an experience that no woman should miss before she
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