How his fingers poked around and swam in the wet pool of my delicate folds, splitting, driving, while his tongue probed and his eyes ogled my facial features. He orchestrated my moans and took a sadistic pleasure in the spasms of delight I could not help but feel. Every vulgar maneuver was launched exclusively for the purpose of shaping me for the finale.
His breathe came hot on my open folds. As purposely as he begun, he came to a abrupt standstill and lifted himself baring a grisly, expanding phallus that caused me gasp in horror. There between his sinewy thighs. it swung like a suspended dagger cushioned beneath by two swollen sacks. The phallic pendulum took on a life of its own, springing up in a grotesque dance, poised in alignment with my cavity, ready to thrust in and lay claim for its master.