01-03-2019, 05:10 PM
“Oh, fuck!” she groaned as she felt the pinching and slapping increase her pleasure. “Oh, fuckkk!” she shuddered, even louder, when the student fucked her deep and through and through, the cockhead arriving deep in her womb from out to in, in one single stroke.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkk!” she wailed and thrashed as he lifted her up by her hips, her knees barely touching the bed, and he fucked her in high speed full, complete stabs.
As before, she was a fuck-channel meant to ream his cock and nothing else. He fucked her for his own pleasure and nothing else like before. And yes, given the extent of how he stuffed her, she needed no separate attention. The complete lack of control was evident in the fluids pouring from her cunt and the saliva in her mouth.
Her breasts, her breasts, her breasts! She ached for hurting, pinching and mauling of her unattended breasts. She sobbed in pleasure and despair.
She balanced the front of her body on her arms from fist to elbow. She could not knead and pleasure her own tits. She looked towards Sunil as if he might emerge from the computer and provide relief to those aching nipples. Her breasts hung free and slapped around freely. Her hips were now in the student’s hands. The saree unraveled from around the hips and joined the blouse on the bed below.
At that moment, the phone rang. The mobile was there on the bed in front of her. It was the professor. She picked up the phone, her body rocking back and forth with the fucking. “Yes!” she panted. Her orgasms continued even as she spoke.
“Ya, ya, ya!” she wept as the fucking continued relentlessly.
She grunted, groaned and gasped. She did not care one whit for anything other than her pleasure and for finding out whether the professor was outside the house already.
He was not outside the house. He was at the florist. What color of flowers he wanted to know.
“Anything, anything,” she gasped. Was something the matter?
“No, no, no” she shook her head, her mind completely on the breasts that were getting no attention.
When the student lifted her hips more and his hands reached below, feeling her blood-engorged lips her orgasm exploded.
“Do somethingggggg!” she blabbered and dropped the phone. The cock inside her swelled and she distinctly felt it grow. He was probably going to cum.
The phone rang back. She did not sound right.
“I am exercising, do not disturb. No, no, no!,” she wailed. The student’s thumbs were threatening to invade her ass. He was mauling her, pounding her to a pulp, fucking her as if she was a fuck-toy.
To the professor it was clear they were going to be late for the function. He took a little longer selecting flowers, which was just as well. Because his wife was impaled, skewered, loaded onto a marauding cock which showed no signs of cumming.
Nalini was ragged and desperately needed the boy to cum. “Come fucker, come!” she begged him. The cock vibrated inside her. She tried to move but could not. She was stuck, squealing, thrashing on the cock.
She reached under and ringed his cock with her fingers. It pulled the skin back, the cockhead swelled and with a loud bellow, the student thrashed his head about as he felt her squeeze him out. Her cunt was filled now in addition to the flesh with his fluids too. The loud slurping, slapping noises that were heard the last time from the flood of fluids filled her ears again.
His loss of control in orgasm caused him to lose his grip on her waist. She slipped from his grasp and the cock escaped its lair. They both grabbed each other in desperation.
“No, no, no!” she babbled frantically.
The student was still cumming in jets and gobs shot over her, landing on her breast as she turned, on her chest and on the saree which she did not want stained.
She pulled him down and pushed him back. His cock was still spewing cum when she jammed it back up her cunt. Sitting up and thrusting her breasts forward she made him grab the aching tits. She guided his fingers to pinch her. She made him hurt her and dig his nails into her soft, aching flesh.
Sunil watched in amazement as large, rough hands combined with her smaller, soft hands to claim and treat the breasts. Those should have been his hands, he felt.
She bounced up and down on the cock as if it was a gym exercise. Relentlessly, she fucked his cock and this had the effect of milking his cock as fully as he would have wanted.
She rode him as if she were riding a horse and her entire series of orgasms extended to one more round of cumming. Her breasts were red from the manhandling. Her nipples hurt. Her hips ached. Her cunt felt raw and it flowed, flooding their melded groins and flowing down on to the bunch of clothes below, now completely useless for the wedding reception. Her eyes were locked with Sunil as she bounced up and down. The weight of her breasts caused them to heave more. His hands gripped her tight and still the flesh bounced.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkk!” she wailed and thrashed as he lifted her up by her hips, her knees barely touching the bed, and he fucked her in high speed full, complete stabs.
As before, she was a fuck-channel meant to ream his cock and nothing else. He fucked her for his own pleasure and nothing else like before. And yes, given the extent of how he stuffed her, she needed no separate attention. The complete lack of control was evident in the fluids pouring from her cunt and the saliva in her mouth.
Her breasts, her breasts, her breasts! She ached for hurting, pinching and mauling of her unattended breasts. She sobbed in pleasure and despair.
She balanced the front of her body on her arms from fist to elbow. She could not knead and pleasure her own tits. She looked towards Sunil as if he might emerge from the computer and provide relief to those aching nipples. Her breasts hung free and slapped around freely. Her hips were now in the student’s hands. The saree unraveled from around the hips and joined the blouse on the bed below.
At that moment, the phone rang. The mobile was there on the bed in front of her. It was the professor. She picked up the phone, her body rocking back and forth with the fucking. “Yes!” she panted. Her orgasms continued even as she spoke.
“Ya, ya, ya!” she wept as the fucking continued relentlessly.
She grunted, groaned and gasped. She did not care one whit for anything other than her pleasure and for finding out whether the professor was outside the house already.
He was not outside the house. He was at the florist. What color of flowers he wanted to know.
“Anything, anything,” she gasped. Was something the matter?
“No, no, no” she shook her head, her mind completely on the breasts that were getting no attention.
When the student lifted her hips more and his hands reached below, feeling her blood-engorged lips her orgasm exploded.
“Do somethingggggg!” she blabbered and dropped the phone. The cock inside her swelled and she distinctly felt it grow. He was probably going to cum.
The phone rang back. She did not sound right.
“I am exercising, do not disturb. No, no, no!,” she wailed. The student’s thumbs were threatening to invade her ass. He was mauling her, pounding her to a pulp, fucking her as if she was a fuck-toy.
To the professor it was clear they were going to be late for the function. He took a little longer selecting flowers, which was just as well. Because his wife was impaled, skewered, loaded onto a marauding cock which showed no signs of cumming.
Nalini was ragged and desperately needed the boy to cum. “Come fucker, come!” she begged him. The cock vibrated inside her. She tried to move but could not. She was stuck, squealing, thrashing on the cock.
She reached under and ringed his cock with her fingers. It pulled the skin back, the cockhead swelled and with a loud bellow, the student thrashed his head about as he felt her squeeze him out. Her cunt was filled now in addition to the flesh with his fluids too. The loud slurping, slapping noises that were heard the last time from the flood of fluids filled her ears again.
His loss of control in orgasm caused him to lose his grip on her waist. She slipped from his grasp and the cock escaped its lair. They both grabbed each other in desperation.
“No, no, no!” she babbled frantically.
The student was still cumming in jets and gobs shot over her, landing on her breast as she turned, on her chest and on the saree which she did not want stained.
She pulled him down and pushed him back. His cock was still spewing cum when she jammed it back up her cunt. Sitting up and thrusting her breasts forward she made him grab the aching tits. She guided his fingers to pinch her. She made him hurt her and dig his nails into her soft, aching flesh.
Sunil watched in amazement as large, rough hands combined with her smaller, soft hands to claim and treat the breasts. Those should have been his hands, he felt.
She bounced up and down on the cock as if it was a gym exercise. Relentlessly, she fucked his cock and this had the effect of milking his cock as fully as he would have wanted.
She rode him as if she were riding a horse and her entire series of orgasms extended to one more round of cumming. Her breasts were red from the manhandling. Her nipples hurt. Her hips ached. Her cunt felt raw and it flowed, flooding their melded groins and flowing down on to the bunch of clothes below, now completely useless for the wedding reception. Her eyes were locked with Sunil as she bounced up and down. The weight of her breasts caused them to heave more. His hands gripped her tight and still the flesh bounced.
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