Indian Village Sex Trip

“Take your t shirt off.”She handed him the clip board and hauled her t shirt over her head, and without hesitation removed her bra. He had her now naked next to his truck.“Get into the truck,” he ordered, “I want a quick blow job and I’m going to use your pussy and your ass.”Kristin scrambled to obey, first bending to pick up her clothes.“Leave them,” he ordered, “I don’t have much time.”In the truck he forced Kristin to her knees and hauled out his cock, telling her to ‘wet it’.She gave him a quick and sloppy blow job and then, at his direction, bent over while he plowed her pussy.After a few moments he stopped and removing the cock from her pussy, pressed it against her asshole and gained his true goal. His plunge into her ass brought a grunt of pleasure and pain from her.He was finished quickly and said that he really needed to get going but he knew where she was. She gathered her clothes but he took the panties from her, saying that they were a souvenir. She dressed and just stood. But in spite of wielding the knife and assuring myself that I was going to thrust it into my stomach, I just could not get the power and zeal and spirit to accomplish that. Mother. I thought about her. Alia Leif. What would she do without me? I was her one and only daughter. The only girl she adored more than anything in this world. Yes, even more than her own happiness and well-being. Was this how I was going to repay her for everything that she had done for me? By killing and depriving her of my companionship and intercourse. No, that was not being fair, or was it? That night, while it poured hard and showered and thundered outside, I dreamt about Espen. These days, ever since I had become so humiliated and depressed and chilled about where my life was going, I had been experiencing frequent and endless and incessant nightmares. Nightmares about I myself wedding with fire-winged and hellish-looking demons and devils, nightmares about enraged and murderous-looking mobs and throngs.
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