Jenny couldn't believe what was happening top her, after about a 10 minutes drive, the car pulled up at a building, there was no sign of anyone else f...r miles around. "Please I beg you, I haven't done anything," pleaded Jenny as she was taken into the remote police station. After the door was locked she was escorted into a cell that contained no furniture except a small wooden bed and a chair, her handcuffs were removed and then she was told to stand in the middle of the floor. The cop the. Most impressive of all was that thigh-slapping cock that swung limp at seven meaty inches and grew thick and hard at a full ten-and-a-half. Behind Blaise and I there were nine defeated opponents each; he’d finished most of his by getting to a round where he was allowed to employ doggy-style, his speciality. I’d watched footage of his previous fights and every time after the Foreplay round and the Oral round, he’d use his first called position to bend his opponent over and mount them, that was. “Ohhh, fuck, Renata,” he groaned, grabbing one side of the waistband of her panties, then the other, working them down her legs. Setting the carrot down, he lifted her up onto the counter, plonking her ass onto a discarded carrot and the other lettuce leaves.“Ow, fuck!” She cleared everything out from under her and parted her legs, teasing her pubic hair and slit with her favorite bent carrot. So fucking aroused now by the prospect of being naughty with salad ingredients, she pushed the tip of. She became an official Trophy Wife when she married Olin Boddiford, an 85 year old entertainment industry titan, who was seemingly on his last legs. While Angela professed her love for him to the world outside, the story behind closed doors was entirely different. Olin was not allowed to touch her, or even gaze upon her naked body. Their marriage had never been consummated, as the thought of his decrepit old body on top of hers filled Angela with disgust. She spent their wedding night locked in.