Excerpt:
Sandy cried, "You little lesbian pig, hold your ass still! I'm going to fuck you so you won't want any cunt-lapping dyke shit."
Val had to look. Oh God, he was in all the way, his scrotum resting in the spread crack of Terry's behind, covering her anus. He jacked out and his long, red, curved prick was glistening with smegma. Thank goodness she was juicy. But when the cockhead popped out and rested in that little coral aperture it looked double her size. He plunged, stretching her flesh out in a puffy ring, slammed in, his balls whacking her.
Sandy was getting angrier. "Listen, cunt, you do a job of fucking or I'll make you suck it. You rather that? Which, you want?"
Val tried to turn her attention to herself, unable to bear Terry's sufferings. She looked under her body. Her breasts were hung out, swinging as Joe rammed into her. She could see his hairy legs, kneeling between hers, and a dark ball sac swinging through to slap her mound. As he drew back she saw his cock slip out and swing into view, as dark as his scrotum, dripping juice. It no longer hurt. She could hear the rhythmic squishing noise, and his grunts.
No, the pain had ended and she felt strange, clutching movements inside her. Could her body be responding to this brutal rape? Again looking under herself she saw that her breast crowns were quite swollen and red, and when Joe's scrotum swung up to slap her mound hair there was a glimmer of moisture on it, her vaginal dew. But of course she had been softened and her flow had started because of sex with Terry. Well, she had responded to the dildo, a mere artificial phallus full of warm water. Purely a mechanical thing. And this was mechanical, pressures on her clit, a shape filling her vagina.
But when she had mounted Terry with one end of the dildo inside her there had been love, affection, a desire to share. No, it was not the same. This was a mere friction, and that had been part of it with Terry, no denying that. But under these horrible conditions--she should not respond at all.
Sandy snarled, "Wrap your legs around me!"
Terry tried. Val saw them lift, those lovely, slim, little legs, hover in the air. The ankles at last crossed and her heels came down on his buttocks.
Sandy cried, "You little lesbian pig, hold your ass still! I'm going to fuck you so you won't want any cunt-lapping dyke shit."
Val had to look. Oh God, he was in all the way, his scrotum resting in the spread crack of Terry's behind, covering her anus. He jacked out and his long, red, curved prick was glistening with smegma. Thank goodness she was juicy. But when the cockhead popped out and rested in that little coral aperture it looked double her size. He plunged, stretching her flesh out in a puffy ring, slammed in, his balls whacking her.
Sandy was getting angrier. "Listen, cunt, you do a job of fucking or I'll make you suck it. You rather that? Which, you want?"
Val tried to turn her attention to herself, unable to bear Terry's sufferings. She looked under her body. Her breasts were hung out, swinging as Joe rammed into her. She could see his hairy legs, kneeling between hers, and a dark ball sac swinging through to slap her mound. As he drew back she saw his cock slip out and swing into view, as dark as his scrotum, dripping juice. It no longer hurt. She could hear the rhythmic squishing noise, and his grunts.
No, the pain had ended and she felt strange, clutching movements inside her. Could her body be responding to this brutal rape? Again looking under herself she saw that her breast crowns were quite swollen and red, and when Joe's scrotum swung up to slap her mound hair there was a glimmer of moisture on it, her vaginal dew. But of course she had been softened and her flow had started because of sex with Terry. Well, she had responded to the dildo, a mere artificial phallus full of warm water. Purely a mechanical thing. And this was mechanical, pressures on her clit, a shape filling her vagina.
But when she had mounted Terry with one end of the dildo inside her there had been love, affection, a desire to share. No, it was not the same. This was a mere friction, and that had been part of it with Terry, no denying that. But under these horrible conditions--she should not respond at all.
Sandy snarled, "Wrap your legs around me!"
Terry tried. Val saw them lift, those lovely, slim, little legs, hover in the air. The ankles at last crossed and her heels came down on his buttocks.