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Tagy: hardcore sex, cumshots, pěkný zadek, cumshot, ass cumshot grind, hot cumshot cum, big hot ass cumshot, hardcore
Přidáno: 9 rok před
Duration: 05:12

Oh God no!! No please no!!!” Pleasure Slave 3613-A then buried her face in her arms as she pretended weep in shame. All the while her body was rocked by a massive orgasm that cumshot would forever change the asian sex slave. ass cumshot grind Not that the act she was putting on was lost on everyone. Both Master Sanders and House Mistress 3397 had seen the signs long ago with her and already knew this fact about her. Though House Mistress 3397 had also decided to incorporate on what had just happened for their performance. Grabbing a handful House Mistress 3397 pulled Pleasure Slave 3613-A’s head from it’s resting place. Forcing the humiliated asian slave to look her in the face. She then went through a series of tirades about how big of a slut she was and the fact she Hardcore Sex had such a massive orgasm proved it. “Ha I knew it! Your not only a slut that will happily fuck anything walking on two legs but nice ass everything on four legs as well. I’m willing to bet if I brought even more dogs Cumshots in you would not only fuck everyone of them but enjoy every second of it.

She looked down again and whispered, “my ass.” “That sounds perfect,” I said. Finally during a break I grab her and, cumshot as she ass cumshot grind Cumshots squeals in delight, spin her around then back her against a tree. “You are very good Sarah. ‘Ok, yes, he is smaller than average I would say’ she said reluctantly As she Hardcore Sex is giggling and trying nice ass to stuff a slice of cake into my mouth, she realizes that I’m downstairs to talk seriously. She was a slender thing, her freckled cheeks blushing bright. The flare of the horse dildo kept her from returning forward all the way to the same position as before and Jeff had to adjust the chin support to clip her collar. Would now be a good time for me to speak with Tammy?” That’s absurd…”

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“I’ll say definitely,” Nick said, looking down at me. “Now you two girls relax, I’m going to go clean up.” He stood up, and walked out of the room. Charlie climbed up the bed, snuggling up to me. “Thank you for making this happen,” she whispered to me. I just nodded, closing my eyes. If this was going to be the new normal, I needed to get some sleep. Three seconds. Three crucial seconds. It was a risk, she knew, to have an entire plan relying on such a small window of time, but a lot can happen in three seconds, the trick was making them unavoidable, creating a fixed path. She would be here soon, Widowmaker had made sure that that, at the very least, was unavoidable by picking a target that couldn't be ignored close to where she knew she was, and this time she had planned ahead, really planned ahead. She knelt perfectly still in the late night light, a shadow in the darkness of the abandoned building that she alone occupied, invisible save for eight dim lights which formed the pattern of a spiders eyes across her mask. Before you spring a trap you first have to lure in the prey, a truth Widowmaker knew all too well. And, while drawing them in, if you can make them believe they have the upper hand they’ll get confident, perhaps too confident. She nice ass scanned through the various still images on her visor as she peered out of the open window waiting for the telltale blue streak that she was waiting for so expectantly, nothing yet, but she could practically taste the little whippets' presence on the air. She was close, very close, the game was about to begin. “You never really learn do you, love?” Came a saccharine voice, almost a whisper in her ear. In the darkness Widowmaker allowed herself the smallest of smirks despite the surprise, some days it was just all too easy. She gasped audibly, seemingly startled as she dropped down while spinning, the placement of her feet precise as she pulled the trigger on her gun. A flash of white from the muzzle intimately coupled with the smell of cordite and a deep thud as her gun released its payload, a clatter ringing out from a casing as it pinged off the corner of a wall, matched by the warped distinctive ‘zip’ of Tracers slipstream mingling in with the girls incessant giggling. Widowmaker sprang up and away knowing that here, inside, Tracer had the advantage over her, even as her rifle reconfigured itself in a series of brief mechanical whirs from sniper to assault mode the peppy Brit’s twin pulse pistols were superior for this form of close quarters combat. “Off in a hurry?” Came another girlish giggle as Widowmaker kicked elegantly off a wall, diving through a door and into the wide corridor of her chosen abandoned building which had just happened to overlook at a distance a particularly vital power site, enough of a target to warrant Tracers response when information of Widowmakers whereabouts had ‘leaked’. A zip to her left and Widowmaker leapt, hearing the ratatat of the pulse pistols as they left a score of marks in the wall where she had just been. They were both by all accounts skilled marksman, but in many of their numerous encounters they typically each came away unscathed, both so manoeuvrable that it was near impossible to accurately train their sights on the other. She just had to keep running, to make it to her objective, she’d danced this duet a hundred times, but today would be different, her objective wasn’t the power facility, it was Tracer herself, and only she knew that. “You’ll never catch me putain!” Widowmaker goaded, highlighting the tone of her voice to add a faux edge of desperation, she needed Tracer to believe she was winning, after all. “Oops, language!” Tracer giggled, the hallway lighting up in a flash of blue as another stream of shots zipped down, landing just a step behind Widowmaker as she sprinted away, her ducks and dives followed by her long ponytail, trailing her like a streamer. Widowmaker was getting close and could feel the moment approaching, a branching path that either led to her victory or another day of disengaging and slinking back into the shadows. In an apparent act of desperation she aimed her rifle back down the corridor with one hand as she ran, squeezing the trigger and lighting the place up in a hail of fully automatic blind fire, just a little further, she could see the window and the building opposite, the trap, laid and waiting. “You’ll have to do better than that!” Tracer mocked as she blinked forward, her pistols spinning as they replenished their seemingly unlimited ammunition. Widowmaker subconsciously counted down the last rounds of fire in her clip, five, four, three, two, one, and despite a precise knowledge of her shots, clicked the Hardcore Sex empty rifle several times as if surprised to find herself running empty and, to Tracers stunned surprise, cast her rifle aside! The girl had hardly ever seen the dark assassin without her treasured weapon and a disarmed Widowmaker offered a unique chance, maybe this was the time she’d actually win, actually capture her! Widowmaker leapt, an arm covering her face as a spray of Tracer's pulse pistols shattered the window before Cumshots her, she came out and cast her gaze up, eyes focusing on a point far above her, her hand reaching out with precision, the slow, almost imperceptible beat of her heart making finding her target a breeze. Tracer watched as with a burst of air Widowmakers grappling hook blasted out and up, catching her weight and beginning to swing her forward and up as it reeled her in, but, determined not to lose the opportunity, she blinked forward, feeling the world shift around her as she appeared out over the alley, her pulse pistols shifting back with a practiced flick of her wrists into her arm holsters as, arms outstretched, she grabbed ahold of Widowmakers legs. Widowmaker let out a grunt as she felt the sudden weight, slowing her accent and sending them both careering through a window on the far building, shards of glass glistening and reflecting what pale moonlight there was. Un. As they rolled and scrambled to their feet Widowmaker’s mind counted every second with precision, this was the critical phase. She was on her feet first, her history as a ballerina giving her poise and balance beyond that of Tracer when she was not in the process of blinking around. Deux. Tracer looked over as she came to her feet, refocusing her gaze on Widowmaker through the yellowish glint of her goggles, disorientated she glimpsed a glint of steel, a flash. “Trois!” Widowmaker shouted as the blade left her hand. “Ahh!” Tracer cried out as the knife pierced her jumpsuit, burying itself to the hilt in her chest, pain blossoming in her like a flower as she, on pure instinct alone, recalled. The pain vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the world shifting around her as time flowed differently for her, sending her body back to precisely where it had been, exactly three seconds ago. “Ah! No! Ahhh!” Tracer cried out as she found herself hovering once more over the alley, except this time without Widowmakers legs to grab a hold of. In a panic, she blinked this way and that as gravity took its unrelenting hold on her, trying to grab any sill or handhold on the opposing buildings, but her efforts only served to slow her inevitable fall to the ground below. “Ugh!” She gasped, hitting the grimy floor of the alley with a heavy thud and a bad sounding crack from her chronal accelerator. “Uuuhhh…” She groaned, slowly pushing herself up to her knees, feeling shaken and hurt, looking up and trying to focus on a cumshot suddenly prominent point of red flashing light. The Venom mine detonated in her face, a cloud of pink gas engulfing Tracer, filling her lungs and, without the escape of her accelerators recall, either damaged or still cooling down, she had no out but to try and crawl out of the pink haze that swirled oppressively around her. Widowmaker stood on ass cumshot grind the edge of the building's roof, a smirk on her features as she watched her fallen foe crawling from the expanding and dispersing pink cloud, different from its usual purple, but it was, after all, a unique formula, fit for its very unique purpose. With a dry chuckle she began to lower herself down, in no rush as she stopped off to collect her Widows Kiss Rifle and waiting until the last of the pink smoke had drifted away before she allowed herself down the rest of the way, watching as the yellow jumpsuit-clad figure of Tracer, sat slumped against a wall, breathing hard and coughing. “Ahh petite fille, how does it feel, to finally lose?” She said in a calm cadence, her faux panic gone now, replaced instead by a smug look, her usually stoic expression now a sly smirk that suited her beautiful, albeit altered features. “W-what did you do to me!” Tracer coughed out, the fear and disorientation in her bright vibrant voice music to Widowmaker's ears. Widowmaker let out a dry chuckle, “I beat you.” She stepped slowly over to Tracer, squatting down and reaching out, using a gloved hand to raise the girl's chin even as she winced, forcing her to look into Widowmakers unnatural yellow eyes, “Now sleep, things will be different when you wake up… Fais de beaux rêves, ha, though I doubt it.” “Vilja, I…” "Good, hold me. I'll just be a little bit. "Oh... how backed up you must be, they're so swol-..." I have Hardcore Sex no idea nice ass who my father is. My mom never talks about him and only said he left when I was a baby. Most of all, ass cumshot grind cumshot I remembered the way Cumshots she had kissed me, hungrily and sincerely, and with a promise of more to come.

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