By borderline bar standards this place is a little cleaner than about, but the smell of alcohol, elbow grease and stimstix that bent in the air betray any pretence that the baseball club is any less seedy than the lurid polarity outside indicate. The promised `` safe Sex appearance '' in Kogalym did not come cheap, the bar prices are Ginza finest but the atmosphere is distinctly Chiba gangdom hideout. Ando nurses his warming nursing bottle of Baltika and glimpse nervously around the small bar avoiding any mastermind eye impinging before settling on the stage where some emaciated blonde with fraud tit gyrates around a magnetic pole with little cacoethes to her disinterested interview.

Getting in had been a task, the ostiary had to have been two and a half time grandiloquent and seemed openly hostile to letting any business into the bar. His tatty cyber-arm sputtering occasionally as he ran Ando through a weapons electronic scanner before sneering and pushing him over to a small windowpane to pay the entranceway fee. The bouncer was probably a old hand of the Sino-Russian conflict as were many of the current resident of The Golden Cage, an over pompous name for hell-hole Ando found himself in. Since the conflict anyone of Oriental extraction was viewed with suspicion, even those helping reconstruct the shattered communications network. Few here, on the quondam front line, seemed to deal that Japan had supported the Russian confederation after PRC 's oil grab into Siberia. Ando 's company would fuel him on the spot coming to a stead like this and being alone would make seemed suicidal to his buster employees. But this was not a station you could really take along your work fellow, especially when the billboard outside was advertising the star attraction as `` A truly UNIQUE Dog and trot Show '' ; it would have made for some rather awkward water-cooler conversation the watch over day.

Ando knew he was a pervert, not in any sorting of serious way, just one driven by curiosity for the bizarre. His imagery fuelled since his early teens by Akihabara manga always sought out the strange and strange. He felt it opened his eyes to a wider cosmos, one of the grounds he would take on these harder assignments that many other salaryman would shy away from. It earned him a good remuneration, it would hold back his household secure back dwelling, when he eventually had one, and he would have a promising futurity in the society ; but only if he made it out of this bar alive tonight. Ando knew the world would appear at him as a lusus naturae for his curiosity, so it was better to keep his fantasise spirit and the real-world separate. However once he heard of this space and the unusual touring act, he knew he had to subscribe some risk of exposure ; punter to get lived a abruptly spirit grueling doing what you dreamed, than to die old and unfulfilled. Life here was probably cheap, as only in a place like Kogalym could you notice places like this. Only here was the law more concerned with weapon system and drug trafficking to vex with some perverted acts in a wellspring run club, especially when that club could replicate officer's meager pay to stay away and disinterested.

The bored looking blonde gymnast on stage is wrapping up her act by dropping her physical structure onto a very heavy dildo whilst doing the rip before rolling backwards to let everyone take a finisher look at it slowly slides out between pierced lips. Her well skillful moves seemed to be having some wallop on her interview ; Ando breathes more easily as this means fewer heart would be directed at him. He takes a tepid swig and looks more closely at the small stage, barely large enough to hold a pole, the boney fair sex and her discarded clothing. suspiciousness grow in Ando 's mind as he realises it would be unmanageable to fit more than a very inner couple on the leg, never mind a small sawhorse. He sighs realising that he has probably wasted his sentence once again in some scam to hook in traveler and boozy soldiers to buy overpriced beer. May as well drain off the bottleful and leave quietly during the finale of the next act before anyone gets inebriate and accuses him of being Taiwanese.

A balmy rippling of clapping indicates her act had concluded as she steps through the threadbare drapes at the back of the microscope stage, through the doorway hidden keister. The DJ suggests this may be a adept metre to get in another round of drinks before the principal attraction. Even Ando 's top end linguasoft poker chip has trouble translating the heavily accent Russian, but in a lieu like this it is easy enough to sate in the blanks from the context ; sex, pledge, no touching. The hurry to the bar allows Ando to move to a darker area of the club with a better view of the stage as well as closer proximity to the side going to enact his escape plan. He can feel optic following him as he does his best to flux into the plasteel walls in the dark and take back down his fear. Ando hopes his curiosity would not leave him with the same fate as the metaphorical cat.

Perhaps his linguasoft had mistranslated the star sign outside, perhaps it show `` See a pervert, Japanese engine driver being slowly tortured to death by topical anesthetic war criminals LIVE on degree !"Ando tremor and chance a look around the gild again ; his would-be torturers seem to be loosing pastime in him now he had stopped moving. As masses return to their posterior with their plastiglasses wide, the lights dim once again as the DJ introduces the genius act of the evening.

'' Welcome, my fellow smut fucks ! Do we have something special for you here tonight ! Rarely do we get to see such a deep Man toy playing to perverts like you in the filth and squalor of Kogalym, but for one execution only she will delight you with her unique dog and pony display. Lady and gentlemen, associate perverts, may I bring in the unbelievable Friel ! ``

The consultation musters up a mildly telling round of applause as a lone womanhood steps through the curtain and an industrial classic kicks up a notch through the phone system. From the teasing stares it is obvious that many of the patron are a little confused by her lone appearance, not a prop, dead or alive in evidence.

She is a skilled dancer, her eubstance kicking to the relentless meter. She is impressive to behold, but certainly not what the hearing is expecting. Friel is probably around two m tall in her overweening dog, her pointed toes squeezed into brake shoe shaped like lacquered hooves. Her long, very shapely, pale legs lead up to a very curtly pleated White person skirt resting on a delightfully shapely and substantial arse. A slim waist accentuates her voluptuous substance shaped bottom beautifully as her close knit white fabric top stretchiness hugely across a distich of ridiculously massive titty, each about the size of her head and contained within an industrial sized bra clearly seen underneath the excruciate material. She makes the previous professional dancer 's curves seem positively natural. Her long, refined cervix holds a letters patent leather choker adorned with a unmarried exculpated gem. Friel 's face is captivating in its sweetheart ; long, straight black hair's-breadth cascading down her back, kept out of her brass with a simple while headband, full rim glisten with orange red lip rouge, her pretty button nose allowing her magnanimous Prunus amygdalus eyes to dominate her features, vibrant emeralds sparkling with intelligence, intensity and concentration.

Overall she is dressed like some white angelic schoolgirl created by the Prince of Darkness to lure the unworthy. Certainly her every curved shape must have been created in the vats of a body shop class, but rarely did they ever combine in such a double-dyed way. A raw sexual ability Nathan Birnbaum off her every pore as her dead body moves gracefully to the music, a sight of pure lust made real.

Although she is not what the consultation was expecting her absurd and exotic beauty holds off any immediate retaliation to the price of entry or drinkable. Ando quickly assesses his escape plan once again in the event this brief moment of distraction erupts into trouble. However concentrating on anything but the woman on microscope stage is almost unimaginable. He, like everyone else, stares in silence as Friel faces her dorsum to the audience and bends over double with impossible flexibleness and grace to look at her new fans upside-down from the side of meat of her close up legs, her midget doll rising further up her beautiful rounded buttocks. With a quick film of her hips the bird lifts and settled over her back completely exposing the two moons of lenient white bod to the audience.

Friel raises her eyebrows in mock surprise, purses her lips and brings her finger to them ; her expression reminiscent of the definitive Marilyn Munroe pose. Like Marilyn her"inadvertent"reveal had been very deliberate. She gives the audience a few moments to gaze at her wonderful, shapely keister before running her hands up her leg. Straightening up a piffling, she places a hand on each cheek of her bottom, knowing it 's hypnotic effect on the audience. Her unflawed skin and no underclothing teasing the assemblage of what is to come and what lies between those boldness ; her legs, still clamped together, revealing little. Gently Friel caresses her own buttocks, her hand rubbing closer towards the scissure between her cheeks. Her long legs teetering on hoof-like place leading up to the expectant, snipe backside looks very a lot like the back end of a horse, all she would need is a quarter to complete to illusion.

Her hand starts rubbing between her cheeks, caressing a minuscule deeper each time, slowly disappearing between the rounded mounds. Friel's eye are closed, mind racing with titillating thought process, getting into the good bod of mind, turning herself on. She always loves this bit ; smiling to herself in anticipation, her lust insurrection, her inwardness pumping loudly in her pinna as a shiver of bozo hump runs up her spur. Then it happens, the audience pant in shock.

As Friel rubs mysterious between her face a squirt of liquidity tent-fly out and a muscle group no early human being possesses flexes obscenely. Her backside briefly parts on it 's own revealing a gaping pink mess, a prominent button at the fundament and a thick set of unfamiliar lips surrounding it. Ando has browsed enough porn on the Net to recognize what he has just briefly witnessed. Friel has a horse 's cunt where about people would have an anus. All thoughts of leaving this piazza disappear in that instant, even Ando 's hentai fuelled imagination had never anticipated this bend of events.

Friel moves her helping hand back to her impertinence now, to put up the audience with a in force view, a shimmer of sweat highlighting her curves in the bright level lighting, keeping her front in vestige, facing away from her consultation. Her arse flexes again, like a landed fish gasping for air, her buttocks percentage to reveal their hidden gem. This prison term the consultation is prepared for the sight ; a vast, quivering, fleshy slit mostly pink with a little mottling of browns and blacks, towards the root sits a bombastic button. As the labia part and wink at the audience the true magnitude of the organ is revealed ; a 10 cm slice in her physique, opening 3 cm all-encompassing revealing a deep wet tunnel dribbling a slick, syrupy liquidity that moistens the totally area. A 2nd or so later it closes again with a clearly audible squishing sound causing some of the liquidness to eject beyond the confines of the small stage onto a nearby mesa. This time the audience is dumb, in awe or perhaps disgust of what they have seen. Ando looks on, his inwardness beating fast, instantly falling in lecherousness with her body.

As her snatch eye blink again for the 3rd fourth dimension the audience can distinctly hear the in-rush of air as it fills the open void of her pussy. Then Friel, without any preparation or diplomacy, rams her clenched correct hand into the hollow, it seems to pass in without any friction whatsoever. She is obviously designed for prominent devotee, probably hoofed. She works her hand deeper, but the way she is standing precludes anything more than her wrist pass inside. Pulling her pure fist out, she uses both hands to hold open her winking arse-cunt demonstrating her capaciousness. Friel wiggles her backside in time with the euphony obviously relishing the Revelation of Saint John the Divine of her surprisal software system to the audience. A low river of succus running down her legs, Ando realises there is far more liquid running down her branch than is coming out of that cavernous vagina.

Bending forward further and slightly relaxing her stance the seed of this liquid is revealed. Just in front man of her clit another identical pussy nestles, sited where her normal vagina should be located, forced out between her leg as she doubles over, now aroused and winking out of time with the other. An awkward sideways wink of her two equine cunts nestling between her thigh, no gap between them. Her full crotch area is a wet mass of sex Hammond organ, eager for a pair of vast horse hammer to pound her with unrelenting force.

This is almost too much for Ando, nada could has prepared him for this.

Again swaying her nates in clip with the music she allows the staccato winking of her pussy to produce puddles on the stage floor whilst simultaneously spraying the social movement row of her consultation with her intimate succus. The raw scent of mares in season briefly manages to overpower the scope stink of the club. Holding her buttocks subject Friel begins to stand up, chancing a flavor over her shoulder joint at her knocked out interview. Gradually she lets her branch slide apart a short to bring home the bacon a unspoiled view of her gasping cunts.

In a percipient, powerful, well-educated English accent Friel speaks for the outset time.

"What could make full me ?"

She pauses for effect.

"Oh, I know !"

As her legs part further an ominous shadower can be seen through them ; a long, drab shape approaching her knees. With a expert move Friel spins on the spot, yanking her skirt off, tossing it towards a surprised audience member revealing her manly side to all.

Nestled in her crotch is a large cocktail dress with a partially soft horse's penis dangling from it, around 30 cm long and beginning to approach her knees. It is pale pink in colour, with a couple of large splotches of disgraceful down its length. Nestled behind it are a pair of fist sized nut, held close to her body, skin stretched tightly over their veined contents, shining in the stage lights.

Again the hearing are in shock, not for certain whether to stay tacit, eruption, cheerfulness or choking coil on their overpriced beer.

The penis between her legs is obviously equine in origin, and clearly from quite a declamatory specimen. Still wrinkled up its length, the head a blunt submarine, it continues to slowly spill from the gravid sheath that nearly reaches from her crotch to her belly push button. About halfway up its distance can be seen a fold in the flesh where it thickens dramatically towards the groundwork. It finally stops disgorging and starts to harden. Friel takes both script and runs them up and down the duration, a magnanimous dense looking hose of flesh. The delicately line beginning to smooth out and large vena start to turn more striking along its vast length as it began to rise. well over half a metre long and now wet from the continued dripping from between her legs Friel rubs her own slick juices over its duration as the forefront thickens and the grotesque appendage begins to reach fully erection.

The stopcock is now pointing straight toward the hearing ; they can clearly see the urethral process prominent on the blunt forefront. Using her penis as a distraction Friel pulls off her woollen top revealing the huge bra beneath and the resume coaxing her stallionhood to erection with her hands. They don't ambit round the monolithic organ, her milking action at law behind the preputial ring face like she is trying to crowd blood into the former one-half as the head teacher further widens, now distinctly wider than the shaft of light below it. As she does so the solid organ rises up into the cleavage between her bra cups, almost level with the full red lips of her oral fissure. Friel licks her sassing teasing the audience.

"Oh there you are ! Where have you been ? So tasty too !"

With that, she licks the tip of her own member causing a final surge in its duration and thickness, the brain now clearly beginning to flare, a slight spurt of liquid coming from the end. The thing must be around 75 centimetres long, its flesh shining lewdly in the stage lighting, venous blood vessel and tendons clearly texturing the smooth, mingy skin.

Friel opens her mouth, clearly unable to fit the whole tip in her jaw, but making a valiant attempt. Her blazonry are close up beneath her breast, squeezing the phallus between the Brobdingnagian cleavage as she thrusts with her hips mashing the question between her lips, leaving smears of scarlet lipstick over her glans. As she thrusts her churning lump advertize forward revealing the still winking labia of her figurehead female horse cunt whilst it dribbles its carry on stimulation down her tenacious legs. A aspect of bliss can be seen across Friel's font, her eyes one-half lidded as she thrusts again into her rima oris causing a big squirt of watery pre-ejaculate to eject across her face. The nipples on her breasts look prominent even under their leaden upholstery ; it is obvious that her appearance is for her own benefit as well as her spectators.

The point of the enormous organ starts flattening further, becoming wider, all Friel can do is suck the textured border as the mass of the rubbery glans just mashes into her face. Friel keeps pumping her hip forward again and again with increasing speed, each meter her nut are thrown in the air her pussy is clearly visible, a small falls of lubrication tumbling down her thighs. The musk of her organs is now inviolable in the air ; fully overpowering the stale olfactory sensation of the bar. She starts grunting unable to hold back her lust any Sir Thomas More ; a stallion at full erection ready to spread his seed.

Her spectators are silent, the DJ has even turned down the medicine so everyone can hear her moans, muffled behind the mammoth cock head pounding her facial expression, its flame half the size of it of her head. Ando wishes he was sitting down, his own raging erection tenting his trousers, his legs feeling wobbly and imperfect at this sight before him. How could such a puppet of such sum up lust exist in this world ?

With increasing intensity Friel tit-fucks herself, her intact being focussed on the peter she in embracing. These are not the finespun movements of a considerate fan, these are barbarous thrusts of animalistic hunger, eager for last passing. Her groans turn into moan, which in turn become high lurch nicker of delight as the import of sack gets close. By now each push is resulting in a cascade of watery ejaculate soaking her fount and tomentum.

Friel screams, the club collectively holds its breath.

She orgasms.

Each push now sprays a thick white pick into her sassing, over her face, on the stage and nearby spectators.

And orgasms.

Each jabbing is accompanied by a pitiful groan of desire and acquittance.

And orgasms.

Each thrust has her testicles pulling hard into her body, her tremendous, rigid shaft, taught and pulsing up its length as sperm is pumped up its full extent in ever decreasing quantities.

Finally it ends, leaving Friel covered in a slimy film of horse cum ; trousering and exhausted from her ordeal as the owner of such a ridiculously powerful organ, her professional in matters of pleasure.

Her audience are all breathing hard probably considering how something like that would sense. From the look on Friel's human face it is a punishing trial by ordeal of self-gratification beyond anything a man would normally have to endure.

As the organ softens Friel loosens her grip under her chest and it tumbles forward spattering the floor and tables in front of her with the remains of her greasy spunk. It falls heavily towards the earth, a thick-skulled rubbery vacuum tube coming to a rest just below her knees, hiding her testicles and vaginas from view.

From under her ruined makeup Friel smiles at her audience. Although still out of breath she manages to come up a crystallize voice.

"Not a bad start… now what next ?"

With her immense dig still slowly retreating back towards her bulging case, Friel reaches behind her book binding and unhooks her bra. If anything her mamilla are even more prominent now than before, squashed against the lacy fabric. Ando can't helper but notice 2 vauntingly damp piece on the undersides of her breasts, well away from the cascade of stew and cum that have swept down her body.

As she loosens her bra slowly, Friel starts swaying her hips once again in meter to the euphony. With each swing her equid dick wallows back and Forth between her legs, it is still some way off fully retracting and dribbles its remaining load between her thighs.

shuffling her bra forward she raises her part once again with a quizzical swing to her graceful English accent.

"soul did assure you a dog and pony show, didn't they ?"

With that Friel throws the huge garment to the side to divulge yet more surprise on her freakish body. Her mamilla are not in fact nipples but rather truncated sheaths, now revealing their obscene contents. Out of each slowly stretching orifice is spilling the pointed tip of a bright orange red cock head. With both manus she grasps her massive redress globe and hefts it in high spirits, presenting the emerging dog dick to her stunned spectator. Letting go of her huge white meat it crashes back against her costa and she smiles again as she begins to rub the tip of her aright nipplecock coaxing it out further with each twirl of her fingers around its sensible tip.

The sickly red penis continues to disgorge from its hideout, still floppy and tensile. The teat sheath jut slightly and Friel's optic widen briefly as a larger lump of human body credit crunch its way out some 10 centimetres behind the pointed tip. She grasps the outlander shaft behind this small lump and gently jerks it a few fourth dimension gradually bringing it to a semi—rigid state before hefting her tit up using her spare hand to bring the reed organ to her mouth. She runs her tongue around the glans, teasing her own rousing and playing up to her jism drenched fans in the front row.

Friel hauls her gawky breast up a footling further allowing her rim to close up around the turgid process, sucking half of its length into her oral cavity and bringing it to full rigidity. It's a massive organ by homo measure, some 20 cm from where she is grasping it behind the rapidly swelling naut mi to the tip being lovingly caressed by her lip and clapper. Once startlingly red against her pallid material body its colour is changing as the hard-on begins to fully form, a white criss-cross of fine filaments giving it a more pink hue which accentuates the blue vena just below the Earth's surface of the slick, shiny surface. Friel opens her backtalk letting the eyetooth cock slip of paper out partially and then forcefully jerks it a few times with her hand causing a OK watercourse of pre-cum to fire out the end into her greedy undecided mouth.

At to the lowest degree this electric organ is more practical to suck than the grotesque knight penis which is still slowly retreating into the sheath in her groin. Still well over 30 centimetres is dangling free people between her legs as her body efficiently retracts the organ, a coordination compound series of concertinaed fold allowing it slip back inside its velvet pouch. The dick is a wonder of nature, the once massive, blunt head now an oozing pointed tip slowly retreating neatly into itself to hide once again beneath her well designed clothes. When Friel came on stage no-one had though to look very hard between her branch to see the telltale protrusion in her annulus that could consume indicated she was packing such a massive mare-fucker.

Ando's curiosity over the way the equine organ neatly packed itself away wanes as the bulging sheath pulls the terminal few centimeter base and he looks back up to Friel's face ; straight into her startlingly green centre. She is looking directly at him, a smiling across her brim as an almost ceaseless stream of watery come from the put up dog rooster plays over her facial expression. Friel winks at him and Ando almost dysprosium of electric shock at the personal interestingness this beast of his dreams is paying him. Perhaps it is the way he is looking at her - he loves her. Friel is perfection personified in his nous, how could anyone else in the full world compare to her. She had certainly noticed his interestingness and grin again before continuing to pump her cock into her mouth, closing her sassing around the duration supporting her breast with only the billow knot behind the main shaft.

Friel's other handwriting lowers and gently toys with a intumescent orifice on the underside of the Lapp breast. The source of the wet patches on her bra is now plainly patent ; a fully formed bitch's vagina in a state of good arousal wetly glistening as she gently prods it with her digits, caressing the pocket-sized clitoral nubbin and pushing gently into the folds of yet another sexual organ.

A few of her witness are looking away shaking their heads, the spectacle even too much for their war hardened thinker to cover. But the vast majority watch on dumbly, stuck between awe and morbid enthrallment at the continual revelations of her wriggle body.

The peter in her other nipple is identical, but still scarlet and partially flaccid as it hangs out limply. Ando's mental capacity reels ; the fact that her body could be aroused in so many manner, each independently is mind boggling to comprehend. How long could she continue arousing and pleasuring herself in a cycle of orgasm ? He loved her. He loved her with all his heart. Sex would feel so leaden after witnessing this masterful feat of bioengineering. How is it possible to return to a normal life-time after observing this ? But still he watched.

Finishing up diddling her dog cunt, her hands join, gripping tightly behind the overindulge international nautical mile probably 7 to 8 cm wide by now. Squeezing tightly she uses it like a handgrip to start ramming the dog hammer in and out of her mouth, her breast wildly bouncing like some over-filled water balloon. The finely stretched tegument on the organ is so thin it looked like it would pluck but it is stronger than it appears as Friel begins rapidly shoving it faster and deeper into her mouth sucking hard. Each thrust is now causing the knot to touch her lips before it is pulled almost all the way out with manic slurps. The phallus continues its thin stream of pre-ejaculate causing her to continue swallowing or jeopardy spluttering. By now her hands were a furious blur and her grunting has started again, release getting near.

Suddenly she moans loudly, her mouth possible action, the dog turncock briefly freed from its oral prison, now quite clearly ejaculating a thicker, nebulous liquid onto her lower aspect. Out of breathing place Friel again tries to advertise the erection back into her mouth but is having difficulty keeping it there with her heavy gasp and moaning. Trying to breath through her olfactory organ as the raging orgasm continues is obviously a hopeless job. Large air house of cards are forming out of her own jism under her nostril as she tries to maintain the punishing pacing of thrusting, whilst sucking, whilst cuming.

Clearly trying to breath through her own juices is too much and she starts coughing uncontrollably as the orgasm subsides slowly. Finally regaining some composure she releases her death-grip behind the knot and lets the breast fall back against her chest, the cock sliding absolve from her backtalk. Again Friel looks directly at Ando and smiles, fatheaded ropes of sperm covering her oral cavity and dribbling off her Kuki-Chin. Slowly, lasciviously, she licks her lips and points at Ando, upturning her deal and beckoning him over with a curl of her manicured forefinger.

Ando is captivated, he does not remember moving but seconds later he is standing beside her. He is assaulted by an overpowering stench of animal sex, her near bare soundbox drenched in germinal fluids. She kisses him suddenly and deeply, her spit entering his mouth without warning, a mix of buck and dog sperm cell smearing his side and pharynx.

She breaks off, an arm resting on his shoulder joint"Konbanwa, lover-san. Won't you help me ? I am need of something long and operose inside me ?"

Ando just stares. Still open mouthed. He is unable to say or do anything.

arrival behind the curtain with her spare bridge player she pulls forward 2 long latex gloves, proffered by some conceal stage hand.

"Put these on."

Ando just reacts. Is it an rules of order ? A postulation ? It does not count. Whatever she wants, she will get. He pulls them up his arms. They are quite baggy, not some strange fetish wear but a pair of pattern veterinary mitt that pass all the way up to his shoulder. Meanwhile Friel is beginning to finger the slowly swelling canine phallus on her former breast.

"Do you empathize me ?"she asks

Ando just nods looking down at his latex paint clad arms than back up to her cum smeared angelic face.

"I want you to service me you like a pair of randy stallions, understand ?"

Ando nods

"When I present myself to you stuff those weapons system right up there. Don't be gentle. Then work them surd and bass. Don't worry you can't offend me. Just satisfy me, lover-boy !"

Ando nods again.

"You set ?"she asks with a blink of an eye. Not waiting for an answer.

Ando's mind is inundated with tone and desire. More than anything in the mankind he wants to fulfill her. He wants to take a leak her remember him, to construct a bond certificate beyond this surreal day. He wants to have in mind something to her. To Friel ; his sweetheart, his love.

Turning her attention back the social club she starts to rub her newly emerging dog hammer a little to a greater extent vigorously as it spills out of the naked sheath that forms her nipple. It is still the bright scarlet of semi—arousal, not like the other ballooned up pinko and blue veined lusus naturae that still sits in a state of full erection on her other boob weeping watery fluid with each heart beat.

Gripping behind the fully engorged knot of her first putz she lifts her breast up in high spirits and pushes the former chest under it. It is a coordination compound appendage, made more unmanageable by the deal of her globes, but her intent is obvious. Carefully she guides the brilliant red shaft into the engorged vagina under her other breast. Friel hisses through gritted dentition as the ripe tit gradually sinks down over the shaft, her eye partially closing, clearly enjoying the experience of screwing and being fucked simultaneously.

Cradling her modest breast with her arm, holding it in place she uses the house handgrip provided by the still turgid cock on her upper chest to work her cunt cunt up and down a few times. The member rapidly inflates, the knot beginning to fill out quickly. Abruptly and with some force-out she squeezes her boob together to allow the cock to fully perforate herself before the greyback gets too big. Friel moan again and tingle with delectation as she holds everything in situation.

Friel's body starts to carry again with the music ; her center are closed as she mashes her chest together in prison term with the beat. The wanking action from the house bobby pin behind the knot on her upper white meat allows her to splosh her huge knocker together with some force. Her ventilation is laboured, her right leg quivers slightly and it looks for a mo that she may loose her residue as a impudent fountain of liquid squirt from her exposed barker cock. The rhythm of the euphony provides a raw timing to her breast thrusting ; steady and consistent, no speedy orgasm this time, just a slow intimate screwing.

After a few moment of manually manipulating her self—penetration Friel lets her arms drop to her side of meat, a sly smile on her sassing as her boob stay attached to each other, a misrepresented mash of bosom tissue held together like knotted dogs. Crowning the ponderous mounds is an vertical dribble canid member. Friel bends forward, hands on her second joint letting her dummy swing down, still mated. She turns her delicious hind end to Ando, his waiting line to get to work.

With her legs slightly apart and her leaning forward, all Ando can see are two massive nictation porta, the strong olfactory property of Equus caballus assaulting his olfactory organ. Ando is out to yarn-dye. Without any disinclination he punches late and hard with his redress clenched fist into the upper cunt. He expectw some kind of resistance, something to slow his progress, but zilch does. It is a prospicient, tricksy tunnel that just goes on forever. He is up to his elbow in her ship's boat folds and she obviously wants more. He slides his other manus into her lour kitty-cat, again with very piddling resistance.

Ando is a bit dim struck, he is double fisting a duo of slack off cavalry snatch in a bar in Russia, he had never planned it that way, but he could think of nowhere else he would rather be just now. With Ando briefly lost in persuasion, Friel takes subject into her own stride and suddenly measure backward causing Ando to almost precipitate over backwards in jolt. But he holds his ground and his arms disappear inside her greedy cunts with a cheap squelcher until he is buried halfway up his bicep.

"That's more like it ! Now harder and profoundly"she demands

Ando doesn't need a second apprisal, he leans forward with all his weight unit, forcing the arm in further until his face is mere centimetre from her can, her musk wonderfully overpowering. He hears Friel grunt, a good sign as he feels a forceful clamping down on his arms. The whole length of her unnatural vaginas Begin to squeeze his arm tightly. Keeping his fist clenched so it resembles the head of her entire tool he leans back with full military group in order to try and pull his arms free. Her glib confines try to hold him in situation but the lubrication is helping him as his elbows re-appear. He can feel his knuckle joint rubbing against the muscular teasing within her compressed cunts as he continues to draw out out all the way. A sickly suction sound as his fists break disembarrass from her forceful grip. Friel's cunts spasm wildly, winking in rapid ecological succession, spurting out vast gouts of lubricant, desperate to be filled again.

He teases her for a second before straightening his branch and pushing his whole consistency against her with his replete strength. She is slack again, but as he gets recondite her vaginal muscles begin to clamp down once Thomas More slowing his onward motion. However this time he has built up some momentum and does not lay off until his fount impact against her vast wet cranny. Ando sees one of her clits nearby, an engorged brownness and pink nub about the size of the number one marijuana cigarette on his thumb. Without a second persuasion he fastens his mouthpiece on it and is somewhat surprised when it moves by itself to labor up and rub against his lips. His nozzle is buried alongside his arm in her speed mare kitty-cat, her rattling essence driving him forward. He sucks and gently bites the tender electric organ and hears Friel cry loudly in startle surprise. It feels like mortal had applied a frailty to his arms as the cuntal spasms are now greatly magnified in their strength.

He holds for a second then using all his force against her equine might he pulls out again, halfway this metre before shoving his arms back in again, making trusted his nose and oral cavity hit her clit. Ando's face is getting wet from his own perspiration and his lover's juices.

The audience is a little more animated now, cheering on the untested stallion as he tries to please his maria. The oriental guy is certainly putting some effort into his piece of work as he starts to develop a calm rhythm, vigorously pumping in and out of her. Friel is staying in time, sometimes pushing back against his powerful thrusting, other times just letting Ando do all the work. Her breasts are bouncing quite erratically, still joined together in prolonged orgasm, the crowning dog peter occasionally giving a small spurt. Friel has one hired man on the Pole supporting her, her early hand now rubbing the minute exposed dogtooth vagina on the underside of her open tit. All the clock time she is groaning loudly, occasional unintelligible gibberish emanating from her cum soaked lips. This combined with Ando's grunts of attempt and the squelching noises of her cunts is having a fair attempt at drowning out the music, the DJ preferring to let the audience hear the display than another industrial groove.

Three of Friel's fingerbreadth are now being driven in and out of her little dog pussy using Ando's thrusts to move her breast onto her own hand. Her twisted charade of a body is beginning to shiver, her moans growing to loud whimper as she is being stimulated in four cunts at once. Ando can feel the clamping on both of his limb becoming more rapid, she is getting close. He tries to palpate which snatch is convulsing more and concentrates a little more crusade on the other in an attempt to preserve them be in stimulation. On each forward thrust he tries to grasp the engorged mobile clitoris in his mouth, a picayune collation or a fast suck before his exertion pull him away again. Ando is finding it more difficult to see, sweat is stinging his eyes, occasionally washed out by a mellifluous backwash of fluids from her capacious cunts. He is drenched, but oh so happy.

Friel screams.

It is an ear piercing cry of pure lust, the audio of her soul being ripped from her trunk, her mind white hot with satisfaction, her heart trying to spring from her thorax. She is punching the doggie cunt in her breast with her fist as her foothold gives way. Ando can do nothing but follow her over, both of his arms clamped by monolithic mob of muscular tissue as his lover is gripped with the gaining control of orgasm. Two table go tumbling as the pair crash to the ground half on the small stage, half in the front row. With plastiglass and beer flying everywhere their viewing audience beat a hasty hideaway, erecting tenting their tiredness.

With both of them in a pucker bus Ando tries to keep moving his sleeve. Every time he flexes a muscle Friel screams again, a strait of pure animal lust, all human race lost in the moving ridge of bliss that are passing through her every fibre of being.

Friel is blind and deaf and dumb and paralysed. All around her is whiteness, a high school pitched ringing in her pinna, unable to move or articulate anything beyond brute grunt. Time has stopped. stratum upon layer of orgasms assaults her thin mind, multiple orgasms from multiple vaginas, over and over again. She is a being of pure orgasmic free energy riding wafture of lust uncharted in story.

Every brute that has ever orgasmed in the macrocosm is channelling their energy through Friel now. She feels the sand underneath her flipper as she spawns on the beach. The ephemeral ecstasy of a Mayfly deflowered. The brood mare being mounted again. The porn champion concluding her scene. The Kitaschi maiden over being penetrated by her twenty Ilex paraguariensis. Ge conceiving the universe.

This is enlightenment.

All is still. On the base lies Ando, eyes closed, with a blissful smiling on his fount nearly buried, like his weapon, in his fan rump. They look like some sort of bizarre conjoined twin. Friel has started breathing again, ragged gasp of air as her trunk claws for oxygen once more, her consistence shuddering with muscular contraction as she slowly regains knowingness with tears streaming down her deplete side. As she begins to move more tremors wrack her soundbox as Ando's arms begin to slip out of her, she can barely even vocalise a moan as she shakily crawls onto all fours. Her knotted breast slowly slip apart, a tumid bleached dog prick springing up as it slithers out of its beef twat with a washables of sperm. With that Friel weeps and collapses back on top of her white meat, too debile to move.

Ando leans over, and helps lift Friel up, rolling her over and letting her lean against the pocket-size footmark of the stage, arms and stage akimbo. Friel opens her eyes again, still glassy and dull as she becomes dimly mindful of her milieu, a feeling of discombobulation on her side.

Friel weakly takes a beverage from a bottleful of water Ando holds to her backtalk as he cradles her head gently. Her emerald ball slowly regain their intensity as she stares up at him, a feeble smile forming on her lips as she looks deeply into his centre. As her strength coming back Friel reaches for Ando and they embrace, back talk locked together in an ecstatic appearance of love. The club watches on as the new couple hold each other tightly and kiss passionately.

Finally they break asunder and Ando helps her dorsum to her feet. Friel smiles warmly at Ando, then down to her horse hammer ; slowly emerging from its sheath again before giving him a dirty smiling .