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The Storm on 23-02-2020 11:50:03

Alison sensed the growing tension in George’s body. Regretfully, they had fucked so many times in the short period they had been rained in together that they were becoming familiar sex partners.

She recognized all his signs — the change in his voice, the acceleration of his thrusts, the intensity in his face and how his hands touched her.

“Uh, ah, please… no, George. Oh, ah, Don’t cum in me again — ooh.”

“Yeah, I can’t stop. You feel too good — I feel your pussy throbbing on my cock. I’m gonna cum too. My seed belongs in you.”

“no….Ohh —”

George released the explosive orgasm he had been holding back while taunting Alison, the rich and plentiful cream from his huge heavy balls nourishing her wet, receptive cunt.

Alison’s legs had locked around his ass, contradicting her pleas to stop. She couldn’t allow George to exit even if he wanted as they jointly orgasmed.

She suddenly realized what her body was doing with him. He was not her husband and a loathing she always experienced when receiving his seed washed over her again. He had no right touching her vagina, putting his penis inside it or filling her with his semen, yet he kept doing it.

She felt his long, hefty organ finally pull out of her tight cunt.

George stood at the edge of the counter between her spread legs.

They were finished having sex — at least for a little while, Alison mistakenly thought, relieved it was temporarily over.

“We ain’t done yet, Alison,” he said. It was an unwelcome phrase she hated, yet heard from him often.

“But you just came in me,” she complained while breathing heavily.

She wanted to get out of the kitchen — an unsanitary, stomach-churning place to have sex, she thought — and wash his vile, Muslim cum out of her vagina as quickly as possible.

As usual, the quantity of semen he ejaculated for her corresponded with the enormity of his testicles and penis.

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