He did not make love to me. This was a ritual fucking, which under any other circumstance might have been humiliating, but given that they presumed me...to be an angel of bounty as per their tradition or this was their guise to fuck me, I didn’t care. I came there to get laid and that’s what was happening. It was “my job” to bless them by allowing them to have an orgasm in my pussy. This was not about my pleasure at all, even though I was, in an odd way, getting very turned on by it all. As. At the same time, he felt it become still more intense until it seemedto seep through his own skin into his body and heat it up from within.Anger and frustration rapidly vanished from Art's thoughts, and he wasonce more in throes of sheer panic. He tried to scream for help, onlyto find out he still couldn't make a comprehensible sound with hismouth.Seconds felt like hours for Art Wilcox. He was gasping for air anddoing his utmost to scramble to his feet, but his limbs were fixed inplace. The. More

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