We’d heard the old adage so frequently that we automatically supplied the end. Fortunately, everyone at the table laughed.“Well, yes; there is tha.... But I also know enough to listen to what people who do know art have to say about it. I went back to look at it again this afternoon after Lissa went to the gym.”“You did?” Lissa asked. “Why?”“I took Ben Bowers with me.” My heart started beating in my throat. Ben Bowers is the art critic for the Times. That might not seem like much in a town like. Inches of flesh. Not just flesh, but tanned flesh bristling with kinky, thick, dark brown hair. Twisting, curling hair long enough that some reached over the hem of his pant leg, twisted over the top of his white sweat sock. Those inches of hairy skin had been the focus of my attention through nearly the entire chemistry lecture... and the source of the pulsing hardon in my own slacks. It was also the root of the churning, horny folding and flutter from my rectum, up past my taint,. " Vasily was getting angrier as I spoke. When I paused, he spoke."And you honestly expect me to believe all this bullshit?" he exploded. He slapped me so that I fell to my knees again. This time, I felt it prudent to remain there on the floor at his feet.Vasily then unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock and began to urinate on me as he spoke."Piss on you; and piss on your fabrications. Remember that I now own you. I have already taken one of your babies and made a handsome profit from. Again, this turn of events almost frightened me. But Tim again led the way, lifting his legs in the air, holding them behind the knees, and baring his ass fully to me. I spit on my hand to wet my cock, and rubbed it with my precum. His ass was already pretty wet and loose from my earlier tongue and finger efforts, and without thinking about any other lubricant, I put my cock to his asshole, and pushed.I was going in, I did not stop, and suddenly I was buried in his ass! “Yes,” he hissed, and.