“Please play with my pussy clips, make them hurt, please make me cry!” It was all the invitation she needed. Before I was able to take a breath, h...r hand had already found the implements of torture and was slowly stirring them. It hurt a lot, but now, with my arousal on such a level, I found that it was almost bearable. Until she started to pull. Not hard, but rhythmically, and enough to send stabs of pain through my labia. Her eyes, only a palm’s width from my face, drank in every twitch and. Three pain relievers can only relieve so much and they wore off a few hours ago anyway. The sound of the TV blaring filter through the gap under the door, temporarily drowning out everything. It’s quiet. The first moment of pure silence in almost twelve hours. I soak it up, relaxing into the soundlessness. But a niggle of consciousness slips in. Louder than the throbbing between my legs, the bite marks and scratches. My throat is dry. Parched. It feels like a fucking desert as I scramble to. I was made to lie on my back on the cold tiled floor as Roxanne stepped either side of my head, straddling my face in dominant fashion, cane in hand, allowing me a glorious view of her mature pussy. Myrna and Rose stood either side, Myrna now toying with a long flexible cane in preparation for the event which would follow this; she was relishing what was to come. Roxanne bent her knees slightly."I've always wanted to piss on a male like this; I want you to enjoy your shower." I watched as her. We spent one rainy day drinking in some of the bars then both woke up hungover and horny the following morning with it still pissing down outside, needless to say we were at it pretty sharpish and decided just to stay in our tent for the day sucking and fucking with the odd lull for conversation.Roxy had many men before she met me, around 40 as I remember. She had lived briefly with one guy but he was more into taking nude pictures of her and taking polaroids of her sucking his cock and with.
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