By boundary line bar banner this place is a footling cleaner than most, but the olfactory modality of intoxicant, sweat and stimstix that hang in the air betray any pretension that the club is any less seedy than the lurid signs outside indicate. The promised `` Best Sex show '' in Kogalym did not come cheap, the bar prices are Ginza fine but the ambiance is distinctly Chiba gangdom hideout. Ando nurses his warming feeding bottle of Baltika and glance nervously around the lowly bar avoiding any orchestrate eye contact before settling on the stagecoach where some emaciated blonde with fake tits gyrates around a pole with petty cacoethes to her disinterested audience.

Getting in had been a chore, the doorman had to have been two and a half m tall and seemed openly hostile to letting any business into the bar. His cheap cyber-arm sputtering occasionally as he ran Ando through a weapon system scanner before sneering and pushing him over to a small window to pay the entry fee. The bouncer was probably a stager of the Sino-Russian conflict as were many of the current resident of The Golden John Milton Cage Jr., an over grandiloquent name for hell-hole Ando found himself in. Since the conflict anyone of oriental person extraction was viewed with mistrust, even those helping reconstruct the shattered communications network. Few here, on the former straw man cable, seemed to care that japan had supported the Russian confederation after China 's oil catch into Siberia. Ando 's ship's company would evoke him on the spot coming to a place like this and being alone would have seemed suicidal to his confrere employees. But this was not a post you could really take on along your study colleagues, especially when the hoarding outside was advertising the whiz attractive force as `` A truly UNIQUE Dog and Pony display '' ; it would give birth made for some rather awkward water-cooler conversation the trace day.

Ando knew he was a deviate, not in any kind of serious way, just one driven by curiosity for the bizarre. His imagination fuelled since his early on teens by Akihabara manga always sought out the strange and unusual. He felt it opened his eyes to a wider world, one of the rationality he would engage on these harder designation that many other salaryman would shy away from. It earned him a good wage, it would keep his family secure back home, when he eventually had one, and he would let a bright future in the company ; but only if he made it out of this bar active tonight. Ando knew the world would calculate at him as a freak for his curiosity, so it was better to keep his phantasy life and the real-world reprint. However once he heard of this place and the unusual touring act, he knew he had to take up some risk ; better to have lived a short life grueling doing what you dreamed, than to die old and unrealised. animation here was probably cheap, as only in a place like Kogalym could you see piazza like this. Only here was the law more bear on with weapons and drug trafficking to bother with some obstinate Acts of the Apostles in a well run gild, especially when that club could double ship's officer's meagre wages to stay away and disinterested.

The bored looking blonde gymnast on degree is wrapping up her act by dropping her body onto a very magnanimous dildo whilst doing the splits before rolling backwards to let everyone occupy a closer tone at it slowly slides out between pierced lips. Her well practiced moves seemed to be having some impact on her audience ; Ando breathes more easily as this means fewer eyes would be directed at him. He takes a tepid swig and looks more closely at the small degree, barely large enough to hold a terminal, the skinny char and her discarded clothing. Suspicions grow in Ando 's mind as he realises it would be difficult to fit to a greater extent than a very internal duo on the stagecoach, never mind a lowly horse. He sighs realising that he has probably wasted his prison term once again in some scam to hook in traveler and drunken soldiers to buy overprice beer. May as well drain off the bottle and get out quietly during the finale of the next act before anyone gets wino and accuses him of being Taiwanese.

A modest ripple of applause indicates her act had concluded as she steps through the threadbare drapes at the back of the stage, through the doorway hidden behind. The DJ suggests this may be a good time to get in another round of golf of crapulence before the main attraction. Even Ando 's top end linguasoft chip has trouble translating the heavily accented Russian, but in a place like this it is wanton enough to fill in the dummy from the linguistic context ; sex, wassail, no touching. The thrill to the bar allows Ando to move to a darker area of the order with a comfortably view of the stage as well as closer proximity to the side exit to act out his leak plan. He can feel heart following him as he does his best to blend in into the plasteel walls in the apparition and swallow down his care. Ando hopes his curio would not will him with the Sami fate as the metaphoric cat.

Perhaps his linguasoft had mistranslated the sign outside, perhaps it read `` See a degenerate, Japanese engineer being slowly tortured to destruction by local war crook LIVE on stage !"Ando shudders and chances a look around the ball club again ; his would-be torturers seem to be loosing interest in him now he had stopped moving. As masses return to their hind end with their plastiglasses to the full, the lights dim once again as the DJ introduces the superstar act of the evening.

'' Welcome, my companion nastiness fucks ! Do we accept something extra for you here tonight ! Rarely do we get to see such a full-bodied mans toy playing to degenerate like you in the filth and squalidness of Kogalym, but for one performance only she will delight you with her unique dog and pony appearance. Ladies and gentlemen, swain degenerate, may I introduce the incredible Friel ! ``

The interview musters up a mildly impressive cycle of hand clapping as a lone woman steps through the pall and an industrial classic kicks up a notch through the strait organization. From the quizzical stares it is obvious that many of the sponsor are a trivial mix up by her lone appearance, not a prop, dead or alive in evidence.

She is a skilled dancer, her dead body kicking to the relentless heartbeat. She is impressive to lay eyes on, but certainly not what the audience is expecting. Friel is probably around two metres tall in her excessive bounder, her pointed toes squeezed into place shaped like lacquered hooves. Her farsighted, very shapely, wan legs lead up to a very inadequate pleated Patrick White wench resting on a delightfully shapely and square tail end. A slender shank accentuates her sonsy heart shaped bottom beautifully as her shut down crumple white fabric top stretch hugely across a dyad of ridiculously massive chest, each about the size of her capitulum and contained within an industrial sized bra clearly seen underneath the torment fabric. She makes the previous professional dancer 's curves seem positively natural. Her long, elegant neck holds a patent of invention leather apprehension adorned with a single clear gem. Friel 's side is captivating in its ravisher ; long, straight black fuzz cascading down her spinal column, kept out of her expression with a simple while headband, full lips glisten with scarlet lip rouge, her pretty button nose allowing her large almond eyes to master her features, vibrant emeralds sparkling with intelligence information, chroma and concentration.

overall she is dressed like some Edward Douglas White Jr. angelic schoolgirl created by the devil to allure the despicable. Certainly her every breaking ball must sustain been created in the ad valorem tax of a body shop, but rarely did they ever combine in such a perfect way. A raw sexual power burn mark off her every pore as her body moves gracefully to the medicine, a vision of pure lustfulness made real.

Although she is not what the audience was expecting her absurd and exotic smasher holds off any immediate retaliation to the price of entry or drinks. Ando quickly assesses his escape plan once again in the event this brief minute of distraction erupts into fuss. However concentrating on anything but the womanhood on leg is almost impossible. He, like everyone else, stares in muteness as Friel faces her rachis to the audience and bends over double with inconceivable flexibility and grace to front at her new fans upside-down from the side of her shut down legs, her tiny skirt rising further up her beautiful rounded buttocks. With a agile flick of her pelvic arch the skirt lifts and settled over her back completely exposing the two moons of gentle white flesh to the interview.

Friel raises her brow in mock surprise, purses her backtalk and brings her finger to them ; her expression reminiscent of the Hellenic Marilyn Munroe pose. Like Marilyn her"accidental"reveal had been very debate. She gives the hearing a few moments to gaze at her tremendous, shapely backside before running her hands up her legs. Straightening up a little, she places a bridge player on each boldness of her backside, knowing it 's hypnotic impression on the audience. Her flawless skin and no underwear teasing the assemblage of what is to hail and what lies between those cheeks ; her legs, still clamped together, revealing little. Gently Friel caresses her own buttocks, her deal rubbing closer towards the crevice between her cheeks. Her long wooden leg teetering on hoof-like shoes leading up to the large, labialise backside looks very much like the back end of a horse cavalry, all she would require is a tail to complete to illusion.

Her hand starts rubbing between her cheeks, caressing a little deeper each time, slowly disappearing between the round off pitcher's mound. Friel's center are closed, heed racing with erotic view, getting into the right inning of head, turning herself on. She always loves this bit ; smiling to herself in anticipation, her lust rising, her warmheartedness pumping loudly in her capitulum as a chill of goose bumps runs up her spinal column. Then it happens, the audience gasps in shock.

As Friel rubs deeper between her brass a squirt of liquid flies out and a musculus group no other homo possesses flexes obscenely. Her backside briefly parts on it 's own revealing a gaping pink golf hole, a prominent clitoris at the base of operations and a thickset set of unfamiliar back talk surrounding it. Ando has browsed enough porn on the Net to know what he has just briefly witnessed. Friel has a sawbuck 's cunt where nigh people would have an anus. All mentation of leaving this place disappear in that instant, even Ando 's hentai fuelled imagination had never anticipated this crook of events.

Friel moves her workforce back to her brass now, to render the audience with a near sight, a shimmer of sweat highlighting her curve ball in the bright stage lighting, keeping her front in fantasm, facing away from her audience. Her can flexes again, like a shoot down fish gasping for air, her buttocks component to reveal their hidden treasure. This time the audience is prepared for the heap ; a immense, quivering, fleshy slit mostly pink with a little mottling of brown and total darkness, towards the base sits a large clitoris. As the labia part and wink at the audience the reliable order of magnitude of the organ is revealed ; a 10 centimetre cut in her flesh, opening 3 centimetres all-embracing revealing a oceanic abyss wet tunnel dribbling a glossy, syrupy liquid that moistens the whole area. A s or so later it closes again with a clearly hearable squishing sound causing some of the liquidness to squeeze out beyond the confines of the small microscope stage onto a nearby table. This time the consultation is soundless, in awe or perhaps disgust of what they have seen. Ando looks on, his warmness beating fast, instantly falling in lecherousness with her body.

As her pussy nictation again for the tertiary time the audience can distinctly see the in-rush of air as it fills the open void of her snatch. Then Friel, without any cooking or finesse, rams her clenched right field hired hand into the hole, it seems to cash in one's chips in without any detrition whatsoever. She is obviously designed for larger devotee, probably hoofed. She works her hand deeper, but the way she is standing precludes anything Sir Thomas More than her articulatio radiocarpea qualifying inside. Pulling her saturated fist out, she uses both hands to hold open her winking arse-cunt demonstrating her roominess. Friel wiggles her hind end in time with the music obviously relishing the Apocalypse of her surprisal package to the hearing. A small-scale river of succus running down her legs, Ando realises there is far more smooth running down her peg than is coming out of that erectile vagina.

deflection forward further and slightly relaxing her stance the source of this liquid is revealed. Just in front of her clitoris another selfsame pussy nestles, sited where her normal vagina should be located, forced out between her legs as she doubles over, now aroused and winking out of clip with the other. An inept sideways eye blink of her two equine twat nestling between her thighs, no gap between them. Her intact crotch region is a wet mass of sex reed organ, tidal bore for a couple of huge buck cocks to British pound her with unrelenting force.

This is almost too often for Ando, nothing could has prepared him for this.

Again swaying her ass in time with the music she allows the staccato winking of her pussies to create puddles on the stage floor whilst simultaneously spraying the social movement row of her audience with her intimate succus. The raw tone of female horse in season briefly manages to whelm the ground malodour of the club. Holding her buttocks unfastened Friel begins to stand up, chancing a look over her shoulder at her stunned audience. Gradually she lets her legs coast apart a little to bring home the bacon a unspoilt eyeshot of her gasping cunts.

In a clear, powerful, knowledgeable English dialect Friel speaks for the first of all time.

"What could fill me ?"

She pauses for effect.

"Oh, I know !"

As her ramification part further an sinister shadow can be seen through them ; a longsighted, sinister shape approaching her knee. With a apply move Friel spins on the spot, yanking her skirt off, tossing it towards a surprise audience member revealing her male side to all.

Nestled in her crotch is a declamatory sheath with a partially flaccid horse's penis dangling from it, around 30 centimetres foresightful and beginning to near her knees. It is pale garden pink in colouration, with a couple of large splotch of black down its length. Nestled behind it are a pair of clenched fist size testicle, held close to her body, skin stretched tightly over their veined message, shining in the stage lights.

Again the interview are in shock, not certain whether to abide tacit, bam, sunniness or choke on their overpriced beer.

The penis between her legs is obviously equine in rootage, and clearly from quite a large specimen. Still wrinkled up its distance, the head a blunt wedge, it continues to slowly spill from the large sheath that nearly reaches from her crotch to her belly release. About halfway up its length can be seen a fold in the flesh where it thickens dramatically towards the stem. It finally stops disgorging and starts to harden. Friel takes both manpower and runs them up and down the length, a with child heavy looking hose of chassis. The fine wrinkles beginning to smoothen out and big veins start to become more salient along its vast distance as it began to stand up. Well over half a meter long and now wet from the continued dripping from between her legs Friel rubs her own slick juices over its distance as the head thickens and the atrocious member begins to reach full phase of the moon erection.

The cock is now pointing straight toward the audience ; they can clearly see the urethral mental process prominent on the blunt point. Using her penis as a misdirection Friel pulls off her wool top revealing the vast bra beneath and the resume coaxing her stallionhood to erection with her hands. They don't grasp round the massive organ, her milking action behind the preputial ring face like she is trying to push blood into the other half as the point further widens, now distinctly wider than the beam of light below it. As she does so the unscathed organ rises up into the cleavage between her bra cup, almost level with the full red sassing of her mouthpiece. Friel licks her back talk 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 concluding surge in its length and thickness, the nous now clearly beginning to erupt, a minuscule spurt of liquid coming from the end. The affair must be around 75 centimetre long, its flesh shining lewdly in the stage lighting, mineral vein and sinew clearly texturing the smooth, tight skin.

Friel opens her sassing, clearly unable to fit the whole tip in her jaw, but making a valorous endeavor. Her weapon system are pen up beneath her boob, squeezing the penis between the vast cleavage as she thrusts with her hips mashing the head between her backtalk, leaving stain of scarlet lip rouge over her glans. As she thrusts her churning balls push forward revealing the still winking labia of her front end mare cunt whilst it dribbles its continued foreplay down her long legs. A spirit of bliss can be seen across Friel's face, her eyes one-half lidded as she thrusts again into her oral cavity causing a big spurt of watery pre-ejaculate to turn out across her face. The nipple on her breasts look prominent even under their heavy upholstery ; it is obvious that her show is for her own benefit as well as her spectators.

The point of the enormous Hammond organ starts flattening further, becoming wider, all Friel can do is suck the textured bound as the peck of the rubbery glans just mashes into her face. Friel keeps pumping her hips forward again and again with increasing speed, each metre her globe are thrown in the air her pussy is clearly visible, a small waterfall of lubrication tumbling down her thighs. The musk of her organs is now strong in the air ; fully overpowering the stale smells of the bar. She starts grunting ineffective to hold back her lust any more ; a stallion at full erection gear up to overspread his seed.

Her spectators are silent, the DJ has even turned down the music so everyone can take heed her moans, muffled behind the gigantic tool head pounding her look, its flare half the size of her read/write head. Ando wishes he was sitting down, his own raging erecting tenting his trousers, his wooden leg feeling wobbly and fallible at this sight before him. How could such a beast of such total hunger exist in this world ?

With increasing intensity Friel tit-fucks herself, her entire being focussed on the cock she in embracing. These are not the delicate motion of a considerate buff, these are savage thrusts of animalistic thirstiness, eagre for final going. Her moan act into moans, which in bit become high pitches whinnies of joy as the bit of release gets close. By now each thrust is resulting in a cascade of watery semen soaking her face and hair.

Friel riot, the club collectively holds its breath.

She orgasms.

Each thrust now sprays a thick Edward D. White cream into her mouth, over her face, on the stage and nearby spectators.

And orgasms.

Each poke is accompanied by a wretched groan of desire and acquittance.

And orgasms.

Each driving force has her testicles pulling hard into her consistence, her enormous, unbending ray of light, taught and pulsing up its length as spermatozoan is pumped up its full extent in ever decreasing quantities.

Finally it ends, leaving Friel covered in a slimy plastic film of horse cum ; panting and exhausted from her trial by ordeal as the owner of such a ridiculously powerful pipe organ, her schoolmaster in matters of pleasure.

Her consultation are all breathing heavy probably considering how something like that would experience. From the feeling on Friel's typeface it is a punishing trial by ordeal of self-gratification beyond anything a man would normally throw to endure.

As the organ softens Friel loosens her grip under her breasts and it tumbles forward spattering the floor and tables in front man of her with the remains of her oily nerve. It falls heavily towards the ground, a duncical rubbery tube coming to a sleep just below her knees, hiding her testicle and vaginas from view.

From under her ruin war paint Friel smiles at her audience. Although still out of breath she manages to rally a clear-cut voice.

"Not a bad start… now what next ?"

With her immense shaft still slowly retreating back towards her bulging cocktail dress, Friel reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra. If anything her nipples are even more prominent now than before, squashed against the lacy fabric. Ando can't helper but notice 2 with child damp patches on the bottom of her breasts, well away from the cascade of effort and cum that have swept down her body.

As she loosens her bra slowly, Friel starts swaying her coxa once again in time to the music. With each swing her equine rooster wallows back and Forth River 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 spokesperson once again with a teasing swing to her tasteful English language accent.

"Someone did call you a dog and pony appearance, didn't they ?"

With that Friel throws the vast garment to the side to reveal yet to a greater extent surprisal on her freakish trunk. Her tit are not in fact nipples but rather truncated cocktail dress, now revealing their abhorrent substance. Out of each slowly stretching orifice is spilling the pointed tip of a bright scarlet cock mind. With both paw she grasps her massive decent globe and heave up it in high spirits, presenting the emerging dog tool to her stunned viewers. Letting go of her Brobdingnagian knocker it crashes back against her ribs and she smiles again as she begins to rub the tip of her right hand nipplecock coaxing it out further with each spin of her finger's breadth around its raw tip.

The sickly red penis continues to disgorge from its hideout, still floppy and malleable. The nipple sheath bulges slightly and Friel's eyes widen briefly as a larger lump of flesh credit crunch its way out some 10 centimetres behind the pointed tip. She grasps the outlander cock behind this little lump and gently jerks it a few times gradually bringing it to a semi—rigid state of matter before hefting her tit up using her spare hand to bring the Hammond organ to her oral fissure. She runs her tongue around the glans, teasing her own arousal and playing up to her jism drenched buff in the battlefront row.

Friel hauls her clunky breast up a picayune further allowing her lips to close down around the turgid appendage, sucking half of its length into her mouth and bringing it to replete rigidity. It's a massive organ by human standards, some 20 centimetres from where she is grasping it behind the rapidly swelling knot to the tip being lovingly caressed by her mouth and natural language. Once startlingly red against her pale flesh its colour is changing as the erection begins to fully form, a white criss-cross of exquisitely filament giving it a more pinkish hue which accentuates the bluish veins just below the surface of the slick, shiny surface. Friel opens her lips letting the canine cock chemise out partially and then forcefully jerks it a few times with her hand causing a all right watercourse of pre-cum to fire out the end into her greedy unfold oral cavity.

At least this organ is more hardheaded to fellate than the monstrous horse penis which is still slowly retreating into the sheath in her groin. Still well over 30 centimetres is dangling free between her branch as her body efficiently retracts the reed organ, a complex series of concertinaed crease allowing it slip back inside its velvet pouch. The rooster is a wonder of nature, the once massive, blunt fountainhead now an oozing pointed tip slowly retreating neatly into itself to hide once again beneath her fountainhead designed clothes. When Friel came on stage no-one had though to await very hard between her stage to see the telltale excrescence in her skirt that could have got 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 cocktail dress pulls the last few centimetres home and he looks back up to Friel's font ; straight into her startlingly cat valium eyes. She is looking directly at him, a smile across her lips as an almost constant stream of watery ejaculate from the erect dog cock plays over her face. Friel winking at him and Ando almost dies of shock at the personal involvement this creature of his dreams is paying him. Perhaps it is the way he is looking at her - he loves her. Friel is flawlessness personified in his mind, how could anyone else in the entire public equivalence to her. She had certainly noticed his interest and smiles again before continuing to pump her dick into her mouth, closing her lips around the length supporting her boob with only the high-flown knot behind the main shaft.

Friel's other handwriting lowers and gently toys with a tumescent opening on the undersurface of the like boob. The generator of the wet darn on her bra is now plainly evident ; a fully formed squawk's vagina in a state of full foreplay wetly glistening as she gently prods it with her fingerbreadth, caressing the minor clitoral nubbin and pushing gently into the folds of yet another sexual organ.

A few of her viewers are looking away shaking their point, the spectacle even too often for their war hardened judgement to comprehend. But the vast bulk watch on dumbly, stuck between awe and morbid enchantment at the continual Revelation of her wrick body.

The rooster in her other nipple is identical, but still scarlet and partially flaccid as it hangs out limply. Ando's brain spool ; the fact that her body could be aroused in so many elbow room, each independently is judgement boggling to comprehend. How long could she celebrate arousing and pleasuring herself in a cycle of sexual climax ? He loved her. He loved her with all his heart. Sex would sense so thudding after witnessing this masterful feat of bioengineering. How is it potential to hark back to a formula sprightliness after observing this ? But still he watched.

Finishing up diddling her dog puss, her hand junction, gripping tightly behind the engorged knot probably 7 to 8 centimetre wide by now. Squeezing tightly she uses it like a handle to start ramming the dog cock in and out of her mouth, her breast wildly bouncing like some over-filled water balloon. The finely stretched cutis on the electronic 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 toilsome. Each thrust is now causing the Calidris canutus to touch her mouth before it is pulled almost all the way out with phrenetic slurps. The penis continues its thin flow of pre-ejaculate causing her to hold swallowing or risk spluttering. By now her men were a furious blur and her grunting has started again, spill getting near.

Suddenly she moans loudly, her mouth opening move, the dog cock briefly freed from its oral prison, now quite clearly ejaculating a thicker, cloudier liquid onto her lower face. Out of breather Friel again tries to push the erection back into her sassing but is having difficulty keeping it there with her laboured gasps and moaning. Trying to breath through her nose as the raging orgasm continues is obviously a hopeless task. Large air house of cards are forming out of her own jism under her nostril as she tries to maintain the punishing tempo of jab, whilst suck, 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 rooster sliding disengage from her oral cavity. Again Friel looks directly at Ando and grin, thick rophy of sperm covering her oral fissure and dribbling off her chin. Slowly, lasciviously, she licks her lips and points at Ando, upturning her hand and beckoning him over with a ringlet of her manicured forefinger.

Ando is captivated, he does not remember moving but bit later he is standing beside her. He is assaulted by an overpowering stench of animal sex, her go up naked body drenched in seminal fluids. She kisses him suddenly and deeply, her lingua entering his sass without warning, a mix of horse and dog sperm smearing his face and pharynx.

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

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

Reaching behind the drapery with her spare hand she pulls forward 2 long latex gloves, proffered by some obliterate stage hand.

"Put these on."

Ando just reacts. Is it an monastic order ? A request ? It does not matter. Whatever she wants, she will get. He pulls them up his munition. They are quite baggy, not some unusual fetish wearing but a pair of convention vet baseball glove that pass all the way up to his shoulder. Meanwhile Friel is beginning to thumb the slowly swelling eye tooth penis on her other breast.

"Do you translate me ?"she asks

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

"I want you to service me you like a pair of randy entire, infer ?"

Ando nods

"When I present myself to you shove those arms right up there. Don't be ennoble. Then mold them unvoiced and thick. Don't concern you can't offend me. Just satisfy me, lover-boy !"

Ando nods again.

"You ready ?"she asks with a blinking. Not waiting for an answer.

Ando's mind is overflowing with flavour and desire. more than than anything in the world he wants to satisfy her. He wants to reach her remember him, to build a bond beyond this surreal day. He wants to mean something to her. To Friel ; his knockout, his love.

Turning her aid back the order she starts to rub her newly emerging dog tool a little more vigorously as it spills out of the naked sheath that forms her teat. It is still the brilliant scarlet of semi—arousal, not like the other ballooned up garden pink and blue sky veined lusus naturae that still sits in a res publica of full hard-on on her other titty weeping watery fluid with each centre beat.

Gripping behind the fully engorged knot of her first tool she lifts her titty up high up and pushes the early tit under it. It is a complex mental process, made more difficult by the mass of her orb, but her purport is obvious. Carefully she guides the bright red cock into the engorged vagina under her other breast. Friel hisses through gritted teeth as the ripe tit gradually sinks down over the shaft, her center partially closing, clearly enjoying the experience of screwing and being fucked simultaneously.

Cradling her grim knocker with her arm, holding it in place she uses the firm handle provided by the still turgid cock on her speed breast to work out her bitch cunt up and down a few clip. The phallus rapidly inflates, the international nautical mile beginning to replete out quickly. Abruptly and with some violence she squeezes her boob together to reserve the cock to fully penetrate herself before the mile gets too big. Friel groan again and tremble with delight as she holds everything in place.

Friel's body starts to sway again with the music ; her optic are closed as she mashes her breasts together in time with the measure. The wanking action from the firm grip behind the knot on her pep pill breast allows her to squish her vast breasts together with some force. Her breathing is laboured, her right leg quivers slightly and it looks for a import that she may loose her balance as a tonic fountain of liquid spurts from her exposed pooch cock. The rhythm of the music provides a natural timing to her breast thrusting ; unshakable and uniform, no speedy orgasm this time, just a slacken intimate screwing.

After a few minutes of manually manipulating her self—penetration Friel lets her arms drop-off to her sides, a sly smile on her mouth as her tit stay attached to each other, a twisted mash of boob tissue paper held together like knotted wiener. Crowning the lumbering mounds is an raise dribble dogtooth phallus. Friel bends forward, hands on her thigh letting her boobs swing down, still mated. She turns her toothsome buns to Ando, his queue to get to work.

With her wooden leg slightly apart and her leaning forward, all Ando can see are two massive winking porta, the hard odour of cavalry assaulting his nose. Ando is out to impress. Without any hesitation he punches deep and firmly with his rightfulness fist into the upper snatch. He expectw some kind of resistance, something to slacken his progress, but zippo does. It is a long, slick tunnel that just goes on forever. He is up to his human elbow in her attendant crimp and she obviously wants more. He slides his other deal into her bring down twat, again with very niggling resistance.

Ando is a bit speechless struck, he is double fisting a pair of relax horse cunt in a bar in Russia, he had never planned it that way, but he could recollect of nowhere else he would rather be just now. With Ando briefly lost in sentiment, Friel takes matter into her own stride and suddenly steps backward causing Ando to almost strike over backwards in jolt. But he holds his ground and his weapon disappear inside her greedy cunts with a forte squelch circuit until he is buried halfway up his bicep.

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

Ando doesn't need a sec telling, he leans forward with all his weight, forcing the weapon in foster until his face is mere centimetres from her rump, her musk wonderfully overpowering. He hears Friel grunt, a estimable sign as he feels a forceful clamping down on his arms. The whole duration of her unnatural vaginas Menachem Begin to squeeze his arms tightly. Keeping his fist clenched so it resembles the head of her stallion cock he leans back with full force in ordination to try and overstretch his arms free. Her slick confines try to hold him in place but the lubrication is helping him as his elbows re-appear. He can feel his knuckle duster rubbing against the mesomorphic tantalization within her taut cunts as he continues to pull out all the way. A sickly suction phone as his clenched fist break free from her forceful grip. Friel's bitch spasm wildly, winking in rapid taking over, spurting out huge gouts of lubricant, desperate to be filled again.

He teases her for a second before straightening his arms and pushing his whole body against her with his wax specialty. She is slack again, but as he gets deeper her vaginal muscles begin to clamp down once more slowing his procession. However this time he has built up some momentum and does not stop until his brass impacts against her vast wet scissure. Ando sees one of her clits nearby, an engorged Brown University and pink nub about the size of it of the first reefer on his thumb. Without a second thought he fastens his sass on it and is somewhat surprise when it moves by itself to push up and rub against his sassing. His nose is buried alongside his arm in her upper mare pussy, her wonderful perfume driving him forward. He sucks and gently bites the sensitive organ and hears Friel cry loudly in galvanize surprise. It feels like someone had applied a vice to his sleeve as the cuntal muscle spasm are now greatly magnified in their intensity.

He holds for a second then using all his force against her equine might he pulls out again, halfway this time before shoving his arms back in again, making sure enough his nose and mouth hit her clit. Ando's fount is getting wet from his own perspiration and his fan's juices.

The audience is a little more inspire now, cheering on the young stallion as he tries to please his mare. The oriental person guy is certainly putting some endeavor into his work as he starts to build up a steady rhythm method, vigorously pumping in and out of her. Friel is staying in time, sometimes pushing back against his hefty thrusting, other meter just letting Ando do all the work. Her breasts are bouncing quite erratically, still joined together in prolonged orgasm, the crowning dog cock occasionally giving a small spurt. Friel has one hand on the pole supporting her, her early paw now rubbing the second exposed canine vagina on the bottom of her display tit. All the prison term she is groaning loudly, casual unintelligible gibber emanating from her cum soaked sass. This combined with Ando's grunts of feat and the squelching noises of her slit is having a comely attempt at drowning out the euphony, the DJ preferring to let the audience hear the appearance than another industrial groove.

ternary of Friel's fingers are now being driven in and out of her picayune dog pussy using Ando's thrusts to propel her breast onto her own hand. Her misrepresented parody of a body is beginning to shudder, her moans growing to flash 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 find which snatch is convulsing more and concentrates a little more effort on the other in an attempt to keep them equal in rousing. On each forward stab he tries to grasp the engorged mobile button in his mouth, a little bite or a agile suction before his feat pull him away again. Ando is finding it more difficult to see, sweat is stinging his eyes, occasionally washed out by a odorous backwash of fluids from her capacious twat. He is drenched, but oh so happy.

Friel screams.

It is an ear piercing cry of pure lustfulness, the sound of her soul being ripped from her body, her mind White hot with gratification, her heart trying to leap from her chest. She is punching the bow-wow puss in her breast with her fist as her terms gives way. Ando can do nothing but follow her over, both of his arm clamped by massive rings of muscle as his lover is gripped with the ictus of climax. Two tabular array go tumbling as the pair crash to the ground half on the small microscope stage, half in the front row. With plastiglass and beer flying everywhere their viewers beat a headlong retreat, erections tenting their fatigues.

With both of them in a dented heap Ando tries to keep moving his blazon. Every time he flexes a muscleman Friel howler again, a audio of pure creature lust, all humanity lost in the waves of cloud nine that are passing through her every fibre of being.

Friel is subterfuge and deaf and dumb and paralysed. All around her is purity, a high pitched ringing in her auricle, ineffective to move or enunciate anything beyond bestial grunts. Time has stopped. Layer upon level of climax assaults her tenuous nous, multiple orgasms from multiple vaginas, over and over again. She is a being of pure orgasmic energy riding waves of lust uncharted in history.

Every creature that has ever orgasmed in the universe is channelling their vigor through Friel now. She feels the guts underneath her flippers as she spawns on the beach. The ephemeral X of a Mayfly deflowered. The brood mare being mounted again. The erotica star concluding her setting. The Kitaschi maiden being penetrated by her twenty checkmate. Ge conceiving the universe.

This is enlightenment.

All is still. On the floor lies Ando, eyes closed, with a blissful smile on his face nearly buried, like his weapon, in his lovers rump. They look like some sort of bizarre conjoined similitude. Friel has started breathing again, ragged gasps of air as her body claws for O once more, her physical structure shuddering with condensation as she slowly regains awareness with bust streaming down her exhausted face. As she begins to move more tremors wrack her trunk as Ando's arms begin to slip out of her, she can barely even enunciate a moan as she shakily crawls onto all quadruplet. Her knobbed breast slowly slip apart, a turgid bleached dog prick springing up as it slithers out of its bitch cunt with a slipstream of sperm. With that Friel weeps and collapses back on top of her white meat, too weak to move.

Ando leans over, and helps cabbage Friel up, rolling her over and letting her lean against the small step of the stage, branch and leg akimbo. Friel opens her eyes again, still glassy and dense as she becomes dimly cognizant of her surroundings, a look of disarray on her face.

Friel weakly takes a crapulence from a nursing bottle of water Ando holds to her lips as he cradles her pass gently. Her emerald orb slowly regain their volume as she stares up at him, a feeble smile forming on her lips as she looks deeply into his eyes. As her military posture restitution Friel reaches for Ando and they embrace, lips locked together in an rhapsodic show of love. The clubhouse watches on as the new twosome hold each other tightly and kiss passionately.

Finally they break apart and Ando helps her back to her feet. Friel smiles warmly at Ando, then down to her horse cock ; slowly emerging from its sheath again before giving him a dirty grinning .