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This Babe is as Nasty as Adriana Chechik and as Hot as Chanel Preston. All Natural and More Wild than just about any other . Casey Calvert is a Porn Super Star highly underrated though.
You walk to the edge of the basement and, moments later, a single spotlight blinds me, focused on the sawhorse and its captive, me. The effect is truly maddening. I can see you vaguely in the gloom, and I KNOW you can see me, but I can't see anything else in the basement. All I can do is feel. Soon, I feel my anus probed by something cold. Not your cock, even though I sense you behind me. Then, I remember. I had masturbated to pictures of the anal hook in your collection, had begged you in text and by voice to use it on me. "What do you say, pet?" you bent to whisper in my ear. "Thank you, Sir," I moan with pure gratitude. A dark chuckle that echoed throughout the chamber I could only assume was cavernous. "Do you know what I like about the 'horse, pet?" "N-no, Sir," I whispered, and I cursed my weak and hesitant voice. "Well, pet, it allows you to be placed just 'so' for so many things: the hook, the crop on your ass, and your mouth to take my cock." I bit back a whimper of pleasure from the images your words invoked. "Please, Sir, please may I suck your cock? Please?" An out-and-out laugh now, not merely a chuckle. "Such an eager baby girl. But you did speak out of turn. Open wide, pet, to enjoy your reward—and your punishment." Opening my mouth eagerly, I feel you grab the base of my ponytail, not allowing me any freedom in enjoying your cock but roughly pulling my mouth over it until my nose presses against your pubic hairs and I choke hard as your heavy length invades my mouth. Your other hand introduces my exposed ass to the pleasures of your crop. An effective gag, I know your cock muffles my yelps and whimpers as you tell me how my ass is pinkening nicely to a dusky blush. You say your goal is that I cannot sit comfortably for a week without remembering this discipline session. Meanwhile, your cock thickens and lengthens occupying my mouth as the infiltrated military base. There is no room to talk, to breathe as you begin pounding the back of my gullet. Somehow, this use wells up in me a wild abandon. My fate is in your hands. You will have your pleasure on me, both sexual and dominating. Somehow that idea of servitude, of being the vehicle and vessel of that dual pleasure of yours, arouses me further. My pussy grinds against the sawhorse and you laugh, although your breathing is labored from the enjoyment my throat affords.
All I can do is feel. Soon, I feel my anus probed by something cold. Not your cock, even though I sense you behind me. Then, I remember. I had masturbated to pictures of the anal hook in your collection, had begged you in text and by voice to use it on me. "What do you say, pet?" you bent to whisper in my ear.
"Thank you, Sir," I moan with pure gratitude.
A dark chuckle that echoed throughout the chamber I could only assume was cavernous. "Do you know what I like about the 'horse, pet?"
"N-no, Sir," I whispered, and I cursed my weak and hesitant voice.
"Well, pet, it allows you to be placed just 'so' for so many things: the hook, the crop on your ass, and your mouth to take my cock."
I bit back a whimper of pleasure from the images your words invoked. "Please, Sir, please may I suck your cock? Please?"
An out-and-out laugh now, not merely a chuckle. "Such an eager baby girl. But you did speak out of turn. Open wide, pet, to enjoy your reward—and your punishment."
Opening my mouth eagerly, I feel you grab the base of my ponytail, not allowing me any freedom in enjoying your cock but roughly pulling my mouth over it until my nose presses against your pubic hairs and I choke hard as your heavy length invades my mouth. Your other hand introduces my exposed ass to the pleasures of your crop.
An effective gag, I know your cock muffles my yelps and whimpers as you tell me how my ass is pinkening nicely to a dusky blush. You say your goal is that I cannot sit comfortably for a week without remembering this discipline session.
Meanwhile, your cock thickens and lengthens occupying my mouth as the infiltrated military base. There is no room to talk, to breathe as you begin pounding the back of my gullet.
Somehow, this use wells up in me a wild abandon. My fate is in your hands. You will have your pleasure on me, both sexual and dominating. Somehow that idea of servitude, of being the vehicle and vessel of that dual pleasure of yours, arouses me further. My pussy grinds against the sawhorse and you laugh, although your breathing is labored from the enjoyment my throat affords.