Misty and the Old Guy

Misty Isabella Stewart Gardner sat in her car outside her flat and collected her things. It had been a officious day in the shoal where she worked as a teaching assistant, and she was looking forward to a nice hot bath. There was only one more than thing left to do. Run the gauntlet of old man Hopkins.

She took a deep breather."Here goes nothing Misty."She slung her bag over her berm and climbed from the car, opening the rear threshold, and collecting a serial publication of ring binder and various folders that contained her marking for the evening.

She was almost certain that pervy Hopkins would cause seen her drag up, but she reasoned that if she was quick, she might just ready it to the external staircase that led to her flat, before he could catch her.

She made in force progression along the path only to bumble on the first round and free fall her folders."shit and damn !"She cursed to herself, as the folders clattered noisily onto the metal staircase, and two of the leaflet slipped between the alloy rungs and dropped out of reach on the other side. She was bushed. She knew there was no coming back from this.

She stared with trepidation at the threshold to Mr Gerard Manley Hopkins flat, and heard the great thunderbolt being drawn.

"Ah, Misty."He said brightly, openly devouring her tit with his eyes like always, the old deviate."I thought it was you. Is everything ok ?"

"Oh, hello Mr Sir Anthony Philip Hopkins. Yes, everything's fine. I ` ve just dropped my stuff that ` s all. I ` m having a gawky day today."

"Oh dear. I would love to avail, but it ` s my back you see. It ` s a little corpse today."

Probably not the only affair that ` s clay, she thought to herself.

She smiled."it ` s ok Mr Hopkins I can get them."There was only one affair for it. She got down on her hands and stifle and crawled beneath the open up stairway, retrieved the lost booklet, and began slowly backing back out, giving Horrible Hopkins the most sodding horizon of her jeans enclothe ass.

She felt two hands on her hips.

"Oh, I ` m sorry Misty, I was a little shut to you there."

"I ` m fine Mr Sir Anthony Philip Hopkins, really."

Misty shuffled quickly backwards and got to her human foot. Did he squeeze her ass then ? Did he actually squeeze her ass ?

"I ` ve taken the autonomy of putting your milk outside your threshold. The milkman always leaves it at the merchant ship and I know how heavily laden you are when you come home."

"Thanks Mr Hopkins, that ` s very sort of you."Said a flustered Misty, quickly gathering her matter and hurrying up the staircase.

She fumbled in her bag for the key only to feel it slip through her fingerbreadth, spill over the rail, and land at Hopkin ` s feet.

"My, you really are clumsy today aren ` t you."He smiled, reaching up to hand her the key. In gild to reach it, she was forced to slant over the rail giving Hopkins the worlds enceinte view down the front of her blouse, as her E cup teat did their best to wear her bra and drop neatly into his dirty grubby footling hands. mamilla and ass in one day. Way to go Misty.

Misty was twenty-two years old and had been living in the flat for almost three week, ever since her senior gran had left it to her in her will. It wasn ` t the greatest, with I glazed Windows and a badly tiled bathroom, but it was hers. How many early fille her age had their own place ? No one that she knew, and she had inherited it fully furnished. None of it was to her taste, but it was well-situated, and she liked it.

Her Gran had warned her about Mr Sir Frederick Gowland Hopkins and told her some somewhat awed poppycock. How he was completely sex mad. How char would come and go at all hours, sometimes two or more at a clock time, and a groovy many early things. There were even stories of demonism and witchcraft.

Before she ` d moved in, Misty didn ` t really believe most of what she ` d been told. I mean, how can a guy of eighty possible be that horny ? In fact, how can any guy be so sex crazed all of the time ? And demonism ? Really !

working at the school, and moving into the 2-dimensional, had greatly enhanced her knowledge of Mr Hopkins. Snatched pieces of conversation at the school gates, told her that some of the mummy had had traffic with Gerard Manley Hopkins and had even been to his flat for sex. The Lapplander and others, had posed in his dwelling house for picture for a particular proposition web site that he ran.

The womanhood talked freely and openly about these thing, and Misty was completely shocked that they would discuss something like this in public.

To say Misty was inexperienced in things intimate, was an understatement. Her tit had started growing at a very former age, and she had had to put up with the endless groping and name calling, as a result. Things became so bad in her final yr at schoolhouse, that she shunned all male contact, and withdrew into her bubble, keeping whatever sex driving she had, very often to herself.

And so she had remained, completely virginal and innocent.

Her job at the schoolhouse gave her a steady income, and she had a reasonably blanket circle of friends, which had annoyingly begun to dwindle as one by one, they paired off with male child. But she was content.

Misty ran her bathroom and stepped into the body of water. She had always preferred a bath to a shower which was nice as the flavorless didn ` t ingest one. She slipped a minuscule deeper, feeling the pee withdraw her exercising weight, and gave a happy sigh. If old Mr Anthony Hopkins could see her now, she giggled to herself. He would think all of his birthdays had come at once.

She washed and dried herself, and ran a hand over her naked pussy, feeling the barest hint of stubble. Not having it, she thought as she reached for the depilatory cream. She hated the thinking of hair between her legs and took great botheration to ensure it remained slick smooth.

She rubbed the pick into the fat folds of her sex, and along the deep twat to her anus, taking forethought to reach every surface. She had to admit that it turned her on massively when she did this, and a finger often strayed to her hard-little clit, while a helping hand massaged her tit, pulling and rubbing the large pink nipples. But not today.

Having rinsed and dried, she stood in her bedroom, naked before the floor mirror. She was always highly decisive of her body but could see little to fault. Her breast were magnanimous but business firm, sitting high on her thorax with very little sag. She cupped them in her hired man loving the texture and firmness, and the way that her pap hardened whenever she did this. She ran a hand over her taut stomach and cupped her pussycat. She ran hands over her hips, loving the way they flared out into two perfectly formed, muscular thighs.

spying spate of her arse in the mirror, she thought it appeared a little too small. She would let liked a fully grown one. But hey, who ` s complaining. Her tomentum was naturally blonde, almost the colour of straw. A gift from her Swedish Mother, with blue eyes and a wide-eyed full mouth.

God, I look innocent. She thought to herself. Never been kissed. Never been touched. I look like what I am. A professional Virgo.

There was of path, a resolution to that problem, and that solution lay just a few inches under her feet.

Mr Hopkins.

With his bald straits and cut spindly limb. His wasted look and emaciated body.

Misty shivered at the thought. But he was supposed to suffer a really big willy and recognise how to use it.

She laughed at herself. Willy ! Really !"Mr Sir Anthony Philip Hopkins has a cock."She said to her musing."A big fat cock."

prick Hopkins was awake betimes the chase morning. As he busied himself with making breakfast he thought about immature Misty Isabella Stewart Gardner. He didn ` t really bonk what to make of her. She was beautiful without a doubtfulness, but didn ` t seem to socialize much. She rarely had friend around, and he had never seen her with a boyfriend. Or a lady friend for that matter.

The last time he had fucked her Grandmother was only two weeks before her end. The old bird knew she was dying, but still wanted dick. He smiled at the store. She told him that Misty was a Virgo the Virgin, and she hoped that it would be he that fucked her into the real world. He knew that she loved her Granddaughter dearly, but by God she was a dirty fucked up bitch. Just the way he liked them.

He heard footsteps above his head, and knew that Misty was on her way to work. He had originally taken to waiting outside his front end door when she left, because looking directly above his head, he could see through the pickle in the grating. If she was wearing a wench, he would more often than not, be treated to a flash of white panty. But these days she tended to bust trousers or jeans, so he figured he ` d been rumbled.

Looking out of his dining elbow room window he watched as she made her way to her car. What a fantastical part of puss, he thought to himself. But a piece like that wasn ` t going to ride out cherry for long. He had to press on with his plan.

Peter Johns Hopkins hadn ` t been a drill Satanist for many twelvemonth, but even when he was, he was only in it for the sex and the drugs. about of it was applesauce of grade, sodding crap. But as he rose within the social status, he had been instructed in versatile ritual that had been of great benefit to him. Things that only those who attained the very in high spirits rankings got to get it on about.

The number one of these was the knowledge of how to boost his libido. Even at 80 years old, his sexual staying power was way in excess of even the most hormonal teenage boy, and his thick, ten-and-a-half-inch erection, remained as stiff and hard as it had ever been. Then of form, was his mettle. It was copious to say the least, being in practically not bad volume than the average Male could ever go for to produce.

The endorse, was how to bang any woman he wanted. Once they had tasted his ` special smorgasbord ` they simply couldn ` t say no. And it was this mixture that he was about to prepare and fertilize, to poor unsuspecting Misty.

Removing his clothes, he took a wooden bowl from the kitchen and placed it on the board. Taking his cock in hand, he closed his eyes and began a slow up stroke motion, quickly bringing the long flaccid organ to full hard-on. He fantasised about Misty while he did this. This was a very important part of the ritual. At the present moment of coming, he had to be thinking of the womanhood he wanted to seduce. This wasn ` t hard. He pictured her nude, riding his thick cock. Pushing her titmouse into his face, urging her swollen nipple into his mouth.

His bridge player moved faster, flashing up and down his cock, groaning loudly as the crisis approached. He aimed the psyche of his cock into the bowlful and a bit later, a steady stream of spunk began running into the bowlful. It was thin and weak, the consistency of piss, but this was how it started. As his orgasm reached a crescendo, a white-hot spate of sperm spattered heavily against the side of the arena, followed by another, and another.

St. Peter was bended almost double, as still more heavy jets of spunk erupted from the spasming electronic organ, coating the sides and bottomland of the bowl.

Having milked the terminal of his spermatozoon into the container, he took another glass which contained a mixture of plants and herb which he ` d distilled into a bring in watery solution and added it to the bowl. He stirred the mixture thoroughly.

Now came the hard component part. The conjuration was retentive and hard, with each word, phrase, and inflection, needing to be accurate and exact. But Peter was a passkey at this. He sat naked over the bowl with center closed and recited the altogether thing from storage. Never pausing or hesitating, the strange actor's line and syllables rolled off his tongue, and when he had finished, he opened his eyes and smiled.

The turgid bubble in the middle of the commixture told him it had worked. Now for level two.

Retrieving Misty ` s milk from the bottom of the staircase, he unscrewed the cap, and poured the Milk into the bowlful, mixing it with the midst mucilaginous liquid already there. Satisfied, he poured it back into the plastic container and replaced the cap.

He knew from personal experience that the mixture tasted fouled, but Misty would taste whatever she expected to try. If she expected to taste milk she would taste Milk. As long as she didn ` t cave in it to anyone else he was safe.

It was a tried and quiz formula that had worked on countless adult female, and it would work on Misty too. This was her third gear dose in as many days and he was expecting to see some pregnant results.

He placed the contaminated milk outside Misty ` s door and waited for her to return.

Misty arrived home at her common time and was fully prepared for another inapt coming upon with Mr Hopkins. But he wasn ` t there. She let herself into her flat and collected the Milk that was sitting outside her door.

She was so pleased that she had kept her grandma ` s milkman, as she drank loads of the stuff and it saved her a constant journeying to the fund. She took a long drink now, straight from the container, and sighed with pleasure. Why did it seem to taste so a good deal better from the Milkman than it did from the entrepot ? She had taken some into study today and shared it with her colleagues in the staffroom, who promptly tipped it away as being off. crazy. It tasted just o.k. to Misty.

She ran herself a bathing tub, and while she bathed she thought of Mr Sir Anthony Philip Hopkins in the two-dimensional below, and how when she had first moved in he tried to peer up her skirt from beneath the diffraction grating, the old lech. She idly wondered what he would do if he got a flash of naked pussy. She giggled to herself. He would either cronk it there and then, or a couple of daylight later from beating himself off.

She gently caressed her tits as she thought of the look on his face and noticed that her mamilla had sprung suddenly erect."Hi boys."She said to them."You ` re frisky today."She felt a shake of excitement walk through her as she caressed them some more.

I can ` t believe I ` m getting turned on thinking about pervy Hopkins she thought to herself. But what would the old lecher think if he saw me do this, she thought to herself as she lifted her hips clear of the water supply and ran a long fingerbreadth down the length of her slit. She put one leg on to the rug and opened her legs wider eagerly rubbing her rear clit."Or this."she moaned, as she pushed the tip of her finger into her tight hole.

"Want to lie with it Mr Hopkins."She gasped rubbing harder."Want to vex your big fat rooster into my virgin pickle ? Want to pump your kindling into me while you suck my tits ?"

Misty orgasmed soon after, lying in the bath, her headland full of Mr Hopkins and the thing he would do to her.

I can ` t believe I did that. view Misty the following daybreak. I actually got off thinking about an eighty-year-old man.

She gathered her matter and headed for the door, already a little late for schooling, when she suddenly paused. What have I forgotten ? My knickers ! She almost panicked but then realised that she didn ` t need them today. Mr Hopkins would probably prefer it if she didn ` t habiliment them.

She stepped out of her front door onto the grating wearing the brusque one-half decent chick that she possessed and felt the sting of dashing hopes when she realised he wasn ` t there. Why am I even bothered ? She thought as she made her way to the car.

tool Sir Anthony Hopkins watched from his living elbow room window as Misty made her way down the path. A annulus today, he grinned. He made a mental government note to cause himself available for when she returned home.

When Misty returned home, she saw Anthony Hopkins fussing about beneath the staircase. Here goes nothing, she thought climbing from the car. She felt a billow of excitement as she contemplated what she was about to do.

"Hi Misty"Called Peter Hopkins, as he saw her overture."No bra today. It must be really hot in that school of yours."

Misty looked down at her breast straining against the slenderize cloth of her blouse. She had almost forgotten that she had removed it in the car before leaving the school.

"Oh, err Yeah I guess,"She stammered."It was rather warm."Her nipples had sprung annoyingly erect and were visibly pushing out the sheer material.

Peter Gerard Manley Hopkins touched the heavyset bar of flesh that was rapidly growing in his trousers. He traced its length with his fingers, before adjusting it good where the midst swollen node threatened to force through the sash of his pants.

Misty stared at the solid length of cock while he did this, and she felt her mouth run dry. She quickly climbed the stone's throw knowing that he was directly below her, with a clean sight of her bared pussy. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she again fumbled with the Francis Scott Key, dropping them onto the metallic element grating. This sentence they landed close to her feet. Now for my encore, she thought to herself.

Bending at the knees she spread her peg, lowering herself to take in her keys. Now she knew he could see everything. Rising quickly, she inserted the key in the ignition lock and entered the matt, shutting the doorway firmly behind her.

Simon Peter Hopkins was beside himself. Not only had he had a close up of her huge tits, but he had caught view of the trench rent between her legs as she stood on the diffraction grating. That would have been enough, but then she squatted down, parting her knees, showing him every airfoil of her bald shaven zany. The fat rolled lips had parted of their own willing and hung almost slackly, only a few inches above the frigidity alloy diffraction grating. He could see the tightly clenched star of her anus and knew that she was certainly a virgin in at least one of her holes.

And then she was gone.

cock grinned to himself. He now knew that he had her. She would now agree to whatever he suggested. He could ping on her door right now and fuck her brains out and she would be convinced that it was all her theme. But no. He wanted to toy a slight with her first.

Misty leaned against her threshold breathing hard. My God, she thought, I can ` t conceive I actually did that. Misty what the ass ` s wrong with you ? She put her oral sex in her helping hand and rubbed her face vigorously. Gran would be so ashamed. She pulled her bra and step-in from her bag and hurriedly put them on, then remembering her milk on the footfall, she went to fetch it."I need to chill."She whispered to herself.

But Misty couldn ` t chill. She was tense up. weave up. She paced the story, trying to make good sense of what had happened earlier. Leaving her drawers off and removing her bra had seemed like the most natural thing to do. Showing him her tits and pussy had pleased him and that had made her flavour happy and excited, and yet when she was alone she became Misty again. Normal, quiet, dependable Misty.

Why did she find it so authoritative to please him ? Why was his approval so authoritative to her ? She couldn ` t solvent those interrogation, but she knew that what she had done so far was just the start, and she felt an almost unbearable desire to take things a stair further.

After her usual bath, Misty slipped into her white terry bathrobe, and opened her door, carefully putting it on the door latch. Barefoot, she tiptoed down the staircase, and stood before Peter Johns Hopkins front door.

Misty looked quickly left and the right way, realising with embossment that she couldn ` t be seen from either the road or the surrounding houses. From where she stood in the almost total darkness, she was completely hidden. She pulled the belt loose from around her waist and, with a mystifying breath, let the gown fall to the floor.

Misty stood there completely bare. She could feel the lovesome summertime child's play gently caressing her hide, as she cupped her full breasts teasing her large nipples into fully erection.

She knew that if anyone came up the path now, there would be nowhere for her to hide, but that only added to her upheaval. She ran a delicate fingerbreadth across Hopkin ` s doorbell release, feeling the slight resistance as she pushed against it. If she pushed a little more she knew that it would ring and then what ? Would he pull her into his flat, throw her down and fuck her ? Or would he capture one of her titmouse and suck up hard on the nipple while he finger fucked to orgasm ? Or would he merely send her away ?

Misty mashed her bosom hard against his door and moved sensuously against it, rubbing herself against the rough, outlandish paintwork as she gently rubbed her throbbing clit. If the door opened now she would come down through it, but she didn ` t think she could stop rubbing herself. This was the only way to get barren, to stop these looney irresistible urges that surged through her body.

She orgasmed, pressed tightly against the door, her forefinger flashing between her legs as she sucked and bit down on her own distended nipple.

She was sated. She dressed and returned to her prostrate, where she slept soundly until the observe morning.

The last day of the school hebdomad. Determined to primp sensibly, Misty wore a dark pair of jeans and a light perspirer. The view of wearing panties was just too a lot, but she made sure to wear a bra and kept it securely fastened.

Mr Hopkins was there to recognise her on her return once more, and she was thrilled as he stared unashamedly at the huge mounds of her tits.

"Ah Misty."He began."I ` ve been meaning to talk to you. As you may or may not know, I ` m rather a knifelike photographer, And I ` ve been wondering if you would like to mock up for me. I ` m sure the extra hard cash would follow in very useful."

Misty was sorely tempted, but she knew what form of pic Mr Sir Anthony Philip Hopkins liked to take and decided that this was just a measure too far.

"Oh, I ` m sorry Mr Hopkins but I ` ve never modelled before, and I ` m not for sure it would be very appropriate-"

"I ` m afraid I must insist Misty."He interjected, staring into her eyes.

Misty was a little brainsick by the way he was looking at her, but for some intellect refusal wasn ` t an option.

"Of course, Mr Hopkins I would have sex to model for you, and there's no need to pay me."

"goodness. I think tomorrow at 1.30."

Misty hesitated."I ` m afraid I have to-"

"Tomorrow at 1.30 misty. Try not to be deep. I will cater the clothing. But delight no bra or step-in all sunup. Those logical argument are so unsightly."

Almost as an afterthought he said :"Actually, I think it might be better if you remained naked. That way there can be no misapprehension. I would hate to feature to cancel our little session."

Misty got it. It would be horrible to let to reschedule. And if it made him happy to have her picture show then why not ?

"You do desire to please me don ` t you Misty ?"

"Oh yes, to a greater extent than anything !"She gushed.

"Very good."He smiled."See you tomorrow."

Why did I agree to do it ? thought process Misty, now safely behind her front threshold. How could I have been so dolt ? She knew all too well what would be expected of her and was determined to keep her bloomers, and her hymen, firmly in place.

She knew she could overtake him if things went too far, and it might actually be perfectly ingenuous, enjoyable even. She was probably worrying over nothing.

"Ah Misty, welcome."He said delightedly, casting an appreciative eye over his latest role model."I was beginning to cogitate you had forgotten about our short arrangement."

"Oh, sorry I ` m belated Mr Hopkins. I ` m just really flighty I guess."

"No trouble my lamb. Please fall inside."

He stepped aside and show Misty into his living elbow room which had been decked out with all manner of photographic equipment. Misty cringed, her nervousness returning. He ` s leering at me. She thought, clutching her bathrobe a little tighter across her chest. Not knowing what to wear, she had decided a simple bathrobe would take to suffice, and she now stood nude beneath it, before a clearly pleased St. Peter Hopkins.

"Now, I have some things for you to try on behind that drape. starting signal at the front of the track and shape your way back. Everything should fit."

The first point was a rather elegant black evening nightdress. After checking that Sir Anthony Philip Hopkins was meddling, she shucked off her bathrobe and wriggled into the tightfitting dress.

It clung to her like a second base cutis. The bodice pushed upwards, pushing her boob together and forming a deep visible cleavage. This was already too much.

"Mr Hopkins, I can ` t possibly wear this. It's too tight and revealing."

cock Johns Hopkins was fiddling with his television camera and didn ` t even get at to look up."Misty the wearing apparel is a perfect fit. You look beautiful in it, and it isn ` t nearly revealing enough. Everything you try on will bring in you feel sexy. You will do everything I ask of you willingly and without interrogative sentence, and you will simply love model for me. Understand ?"

She nodded unseen."Yes of course."And re-evaluated the clothes in the mirror. He was right. She did look sexy in it.

St. Peter the Apostle Sir Anthony Hopkins moved around her with the camera, taking shot after shot. Misty was laughing, twisting and turning, and posing as directed. This was so a great deal fun ! Why had she never done this before ? She didn ` t even object when he pulled the zipper down at the back of the wearing apparel and pulled it off her shoulders. She naturally cupped her tits, holding the fragile material tight against them, laughing as if before a lover. Then the dress was pulled to her waistline, and she stood with her back to the television camera, as more photos were taken.

prick Hopkins was ecstatic. She was everything he ` d hoped for and more. As she was changing into the next frock, Peter quickly deleted all of the photos. They were honest, but far too tame for his website.

The next detail of clothing was more revealing. Almost fetish clothing, it consisted of a miserly inglorious micro skirt with a white blouse that fastened to just below the rib cage. Misty loved it. As she checked herself out in the mirror, she noticed her teat growing voiceless and tenting the forepart of her blouse, her pink areoles visible through the sheer material.

Gosh, I look hot. Thought Misty running her palms over the concentrated buds of soma. Her dense mamilla were threatening to break open out of the blouse, and the skirt barely covered her wet and aching crotch.

As she stepped from behind the drapery, the breath caught in putz Hopkins throat. My God she was beautiful. His fat cockhead had pushed above the waistband of his trousers and was now on to the full display. If Misty noticed she didn ` t say.

"payoff pic of my tits."She said smiling. Peter was happy to oblige. Then she stood with her back to him and hang over, spreading her legs, and grasping her ankles"Now my ass."

tool dropped to his articulatio genus getting some excellent slit shots, his prick almost bursting. With a shock absorber he realised that he had not commanded her to do this. This was not magic trick or drugs. This was a hot and horny Misty. All he had done was modest her suppression and this was the result.

Next came the swimsuit. It was a grim blue one piece, and deliberately two sizes too pocket-sized. Misty was positively bursting out of it. Her deep crack was clearly visible, and her breast were pushed up and squeezed out of the top and sides. This was too lots for Peter Hopkins.

denudation off his shirt, he dropped his pant and underclothing, stepping quickly out of them, letting his immense erection swing resign. It swung briefly from side to side, before coming to rest pointing directly at Misty.

"Mr Hopkins !"Gasped Misty, putting a hired hand over her mouth in shock."That ` s huge, it ` s massive. I mean, oh gosh !"

His emaciated eubstance made his stopcock seem magnanimous still. It was as if the huge reed organ was sucking the life out of him.

"Do you like it Misty ?"He hissed quietly, sounding for all the worldly concern like the depraved pervert that he was. He stroked the swollen organ, pulling back the foreskin and making the fat knob balloon even larger."Isn ` t it a beauty ?"

Misty nodded dumbly, her philia hammering in her chest. This was the first real cock she had ever seen and was shocked by its size and rigidity. The temptation to drop to her articulatio genus and remove it into her mouth was almost overwhelming, but she stood her ground.

"Now."He whispered."Fold the material into that wet slit and pull it tight. I want to see those fat cunt lips."

Misty did as she was told, feeling the shaved lips of her sex spread around the sopping wet material, and encompass the throbbing nubbin of her clit. She ran a fingerbreadth lightly across it and felt a shiver of delight course through her torso. Misty was on intimate overload. Never before had she had such incredible feelings coursing through her body.

Unbidden, she pulled the strap from her berm and pulled the bathing suit down to her waistline, exposing the firm mounds of her tits to the pervert's gaze.

"Get on your knees."He whispered hoarsely. She dropped obediently to her knees as Mark Hopkins shuffled towards her, his huge organ swinging before him. He took a tit in his manus and gently rubbed his swollen cockhead across the erect mamilla smearing and rubbing his pre-cum into the rigid flesh.

Misty gasped at the strange new wizard. cypher had touched her bare tits before, and here she was offering them to the neighbourhood pervert. But she wanted him to touch them. To mangle them. To fuck them. To cover them in his hot steaming spunk.

She pushed the pap quickly into her mouth, flicking the hard-little nub with her lingua, licking, and sucking the slimy juice and swallowing it down. When she felt the hot rubbery tip of his peter push against her lip, she opened her mouth accepting it inside, her tongue caressing it, licking away the moisture and making Peter Anthony Hopkins groan in pleasance. He began to move gently in and out, careful not to shove to deeply. As he pulled back, Misty followed it, desperate to keep it inside her oral fissure. She bore down on it, sucking it rich as her hands seized the flabby cheeks of his ass, pulling him further inside.

Just when he thought he couldn ` t take any More, Misty pulled back."I need you to fuck me St. Peter. I need you to fuck me right now. Please fuck me. Don ` t leave me like this."She moaned.

Seizing her by the tits, Sir Anthony Hopkins pulled her to her feet, pulling the bathing costume down and casting it away. He dragged her roughly to a nearby lounge, where he pulled her down on top of him, licking and sucking her tits, while his hot hungry prick probed between the lips of her cunt.

She felt it begin to push inside, the fat rolled lips of her pussy parting for the very first time to the invading cock. She instinctively pushed back, feeling the get-go stab of pain as it began to stretch her unused channel.

"I can ` t do it Peter."She cried."You ` ll have to do it for me. Ram it inside. have me a woman."

He threw her to the floor, squirming between her widely splayed wooden leg, his hot fat knob slipping easily into her fluid centre. She wrapped her legs tightly around his skinny hips knowing what was coming.

He thrust operose, viciously into her, rupturing her hymen and surging deep into her belly. Misty screamed, twisting and turning, desperately trying to escape the deeply embedded spike as it drove deeper still, widening her virgin channel and filling her spite and bleeding cunt.

"No more Peter, please no more."She sobbed, wrapping her arms around him.

Peter Hopkins merely grunted, his wide bloodshot centre and drooling oral cavity betraying his lust, as he began to be intimate her. Each poke eliciting a flyspeck cry from Misty. She knew there was no dearest here. Not even an ounce of deference. She was merely a hole for his cock. A physical structure to be used and abused for his own brainsick entertainment.

But that in itself she found exciting. The sheer nastiness of it. The virtuous animalistic rutting. The knowledge that this was sex for sex ` s sake, with no emotional adherence of any kind. She began to move against him, meeting his thrust with poking of her own, grinding her clitoris hard against his pubic bone, taking her own pleasance from the obscene act.

She wanted to palpate his thick cock spurting into her slit, her mouth, her ass. She wanted to find his mouth sucking her knocker, and his glossa cryptical inside her sopping wet hole.

She knew now that she could never have a normal relationship. perfunctory sex was the way forward now. Illicit sex. Sex with strange men in strange position, filling her holes with their hot cocks and scalding spunk.

They came together, each crying out their lust as they thrust and spasmed against each early. She felt the hot, never ending spurts deep inside her rippling cunt as he poured his cum into her. She was his now, that much she knew. He could ingest her anytime he wanted, and in any hole. If he didn ` t want sex she would force herself upon him. She would acquire to titfuck him and take it up her ass.

Misty was lost in a creation of depraved, animalistic sex .