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The Storm on 28-03-2020 14:32:18

She wanted to get off that kitchen table — an unsanitary, stomach-churning place to have sex, she thought — and wash his vile, Muslim cum out of her as quickly as possible. As usual, the quantity of semen he ejaculated for her corresponded with the enormity of his testicles and penis.

Between her splayed legs the smooth brown head of his penis kept nudging her excited pink clitoris, both organs wet and glistening, heavily covered in a messy combination of their secretions from intercourse.

George had coaxed her completely open for him during their sex, and she remained that way now.

“Oh, God, what are you doing? You just finished — y-you came in me already.”

He was engrossed with her vagina again and did not return her gaze.

George watched her squirm beneath him trying to avoid the sensual contact with his penis, but he was unrelenting.

He grabbed her hips, pulling her back to the very edge of the table and next to him.

He held his hardening cock against her tumescent clitoris following its every move, sliding himself up and down, indulging her sensitive female flesh with his own, much larger, male version of it.

George did not reply, absorbed momentarily studying her beautiful clitoris, now a darker pink than usual and engorged. His brown wet dick, resting on her light skin beside her pussy, was still firm. Alison felt the warmth and wetness of his heavy penis.

George kept wetting his cock in her, taking his penis out of her, minutes later and resuming the irresistible massage on her.

His cock filled and caressed her so perfectly, making it feel so incredible, that she actually forgot for a time how much she really hated George and hated doing this with him. She forgot about her marriage and that George had no right touching her there — that no part of him, including his penis, belonged anywhere near her, let alone in her.

“You really feeling it good now.”

She did not want to ‘feel it’ or hear his ludicrous comments, but he would not stop saying those perverse things. She tried tuning him out, but like the sensations, his words penetrated to her deepest core and like their body fluids, his warped thoughts began mixing with her own.

Yes, she felt every wonderful bit of him just like he wanted.

She wanted to look away but like the alcoholic after that first sip, she seemed powerless to stop watching their intimacy from becoming more. George kept refilling her glass, forcing her to consume what he poured. He was getting her drunk with sex.

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