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She stopped crying n we were like zombais standing there , with my manhood in her ass . I threw her on the soil she fell down on her back , her saree was above her knees and her ass was touching the wet soil , we had silence for 10 mins , she laid there in same position , as seeing a movement , i just jumped again over her , she protested again , but i’ve already found way in the spread legs and lifted saree , i tore off her panty and my dick came contact to her pussy .As i moved in , she. I just had to. Lacing my fingers together behind my neck, I slowly arched my back right to its extremity. Mmmmmm, I thought. It felt really good. I mean the pain was there, but I had accepted that, and it wasn't that bad. It was like I was exercising it. Controlling it. It was strangely invigorating. Images from last night flashed before my eyes and I realised something had changed. Usually I would be thinking about how incredible it all was, the things I had done, or the things that had been. He who liked to rip off her clothes, even her jeans, before he even spoke a word to her. He who used his mouth and hands to cause her just as much pain as pleasure. Suddenly she stopped walking and turned to look up at a three story brownstone building. Her violet eyes darted up to the fifth floor windows where, she imagined, he was staring down at her burning holes into the top of her head. She sighed as she pushed open the black metal door to the building and stepped inside. She was greeted. They all had a grope of me, even the girls who seemed very interested in my lack of pubic hair and large clit. Eventually they left and I was left to soak up the sun. My pussy was leaking juices all the time, but the sun was drying them before they dripped off my feet.A couple of hours later a dirty, scruffy man came up to me. He looked like a vagrant, and a slightly retarded one at that. He had a good grope as well, and even got his dick out and tried to get it to reach my pussy. He didn’t.
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