“You, fucking my face. Hard. My spit everywhere. All I can smell, taste and hear is you. Your balls rubbing my nose. My throat milking your cock.”...��Fuck.” He hissed. “You ever have a man fuck you like that? Own you in that way?”“Never. The only man I trust with my body in that way is forbidden, off limits.”His torn expression said it all: lust, sadness, frustration, and temptation. He seemed completely split between gorging himself on her and running away. A full minute passed with nothing. "Fuck you," they replied, but with a smile."Barb, when are you going to let me see your boobs?Paul was tired. He was tired of traveling. He was tired of parties. He was tired of lunches and dinners. He was tired of races. He wanted to go home and stay home. He wanted to be in his bed. Racing was getting old. The girls were having fun, but he was tired of airplane flights and train rides. It was about time to retire from racing. He would talk to Mr. Chinetti and Mr. Ferrari. I guess I'd better. And after 5-6 slaps (she was counting loudly) I grabbed her by her hair and asked did you like it. She said yes sir and I slapped her again and pinched her boobs which made her moan ( ah sir dard ho raha hai).At that moment I got angry and told her, “Randi aj ke bad ye mat bolio dard ho raha hai.”(whore never say there is any pain) to which she closed her eyes and said yes sir. After this, I dropped her back at the metro station and went home.Day 2:I called her and asked when she would be free.. The texture was incredible. My pussy drank it in. I swelled toward my climax. I would have such a mighty cum. That big dick plunged to the hilt in me again and again.My boobs bounced, my necklaces clinking. I whimpered, my back arching. I rubbed my rump into the sand as he drilled that massive cock in and out of me. He fucked me with brutal strokes. He growled like a beast.A wild, out-of-control monster that loved my cunt. I squeezed about him, feeling the bliss swelling in him. The need to.