As soon as your mouth pops open, the thicker tentacle shoots forward, bulling it's way into your mouth and down your throat as the tentacle chocking y...u relaxes it's grip. These tentacles start to fuck you even harder than the last ones, and you're soon reduced to a moaning, twitching mess as they continue to use you like a doll. Like before, you feel them eventually seize up and spurt more thick fluid into you, filling you up even more. Unlike before, they don't pull out. Instead, they freeze. I spend a lot of money in buying expensive brassieres and panties so that when my guy take my clothes off he always feels more excited to see my 2 ultimate prizes encased in the laciest, sheerest clothes possible. Normally Saturday and Sundays is what me and my roomie Reshma refer to as “fuck days”, we always have along list of suitors for these days and I too enjoy my attention in those days. That Saturday afternoon I went back from morning jog and walked in our flat, I knew something was. He gave me a look of extreme wickedness and I watched as he put his hand into the ice bucket, rattling the cubes around and making them clank against the metal. Oh, ice cubes? I pondered, thinking that this was turning out to be the most exciting night we’d had in ages, and believe me, we’d had more than a few. He was an excellent lover. “Lean your head back,” he said quietly, “Close your eyes and relax.” Relax? Really? I felt anything but calm, still, I did as he bid, my butt still propped. Just like Coach Wilson taught me. Lionel’s other friend charges towards me when I duck under him, slip behind him, and drop him to his knees in a choke hold. Just like Uncle John taught me. It actually works. Then I hear a familiar voice.“Release!” Coach Wilson shouts. I certainly remember what that means as I let him go. Everyone back to your tables. Lionel and Donald get on their feet and are escorted away along with the other goon. “YOU! In my office,” Coach Wilson screams at me.I follow.