I know how much I want to come for him. “You want to come for me, don’t you baby-girl?” I look down at him, my breath almost a whisper. “Fuck... I do. I want to come so hard. Please don’t stop, fuck me harder.” I beg him, almost sounding like a demand. He pushes in another finger and strokes my sweetest spot. His thumb works me quicker, my clit becoming so hard, his mouth like magic for me. Between him and the chocolate, I feel as though I’m high on drugs. My need for coming takes me, reaching. My family is not so rich and my father is an agriculturist and whatever he was earning was enough to carry out the livelihood but it was not enough to continue my education, after my puc my father joined me to a degree college with the merit seat and the college was in the next city so my father made an arrangement to stay in his relative friend house for a minimal rent and the house owner is the man who changed my life and all the credit for my endless sexual activities goes to him onlySo it. Not much just a little. Paul continued to work his way up my body. He did my arms and my neck. It was time for him to work on my back.He told me that he was going to lift my dress up. I felt ashamed but didn`t disagree. he lifted my dress and I knew he was surprise because he stopped at some point. I could feel my ass being bare. I tried to bite my lips and he stopped talking. He lifted it some more until half my back was bare. I was half naked in front of a stranger. It wasn`t that bad as I am. Cocks pulled out of my holes, and in just a few seconds, were replaced with other hard cocks. I was being mauled, pinched, choked, slapped, hard pulled, nipples twisted, and was being repeatedly spit on, while they all complimented the fuck a****l that I had now become for them. They called me a dirty whore, a cock sleeve, a nasty fuckpig, filthy fuck trash, and the list went on and on. Those names, and the degrading things they were telling me to do, had the same effect on me, as telling a dog.