Desi Aunty Nude Sex With Hubby’s Friend

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The women in the room were taunting a male who hung by the neck from a short scaffold; his feet dancing in exquisite pain and ecstasy just inches from the safety of a floor he could never reach, his ankles bound tightly, his wrists tied painfully tight behind him, belts around his knees, thighs and one around his upper body, severely tight so that this reinforced that he knew there was to be no escape. His cock rigid at 45 degrees, he danced for the women as his face turned blue; all the women laughing and jeering, many openly masturbating. A huge roar went up as his cock pulsed and he shot loop after loop of hot white spunk in the ecstasy of dying for the women.I was transfixed and almost jealous of the man; I could never begin to know what the pure ecstasy of that orgasm felt like as his life ebbed away in a glorious sacrifice to womanhood. Anita laughed and slammed the door shut, tugged on the lead and the two women led me further on, as though I had witnessed nothing; the two. . How about I put my top back on and we go for a cold dip - should solve your problem." We did. It was cold, but OK once we were in. My hardon disappeared even when I noticed Cassie's stiffened nipples poking out. After drying off, we lay like before and chatted but even though she was covered up, my mind kept replaying the images of my sister's lovely little titties and my hardon returned. She saw it. "Hell Mike, does that thing ever just go to sleep?" "Sorry Cass. Um, I'll just say it OK? You're turning me on because I can still see your tits in my head. All the time. I know it started as a game, but, well...I...can't seem to get it out of my head." "OK. Um, sorry. I guess I didn't expect to have this kind of effect." "Well you do. Don't be sorry. I have to admit I kinda wanted to see them. I mean...I can't believe I'm saying this to my sister...you're really, really pretty and I know you don't mean to make it happen but, shit, my balls are aching right now." "Oh. You need to jerk.
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Not if you didn't want to. You can wearthe clothes you've got on, if you want. I mean, if you did want to wearsomething, we could find it." I keep telling you. It's ridiculous. Do I look like a kitten?" I won't answer that. But you're right. You'd just be a regular barman.Will you do it? It's good fun. And you'll get loads of money."I shrugged. That was all it took. If I hadn't been prepared to do it,all I had to do was say. And I didn't. Ten minutes later I was behindthe bar. Needless to say, I turned down her offer to "find somethingfor me to wear".I was wearing my normal clothes, although she did insist on putting aclip on the back of my T-shirt to make it tighter. She said it woulddouble my tips. I was just to ignore any comments from customers. Theydidn't mean the things they said. Just to keep up appearances, everyonewould call me Frankie rather than Frank, but that didn't mean anything.Plenty of red-blooded heterosexual males who'd been christened Franciscalled themselves.

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