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"Why don't you... show us a bit more of them." Doris wriggled but her arms were held tight and Steve was gripping her knees. He slid one hand slowly along her thigh, pushing her dress higher. Suddenly he used both hands to shove the dress up to the top of her thighs. "Fuck!" he exclaimed. "Look at that! The bitch is wearing stockings!" Doris's struggles increased and she cried out "Leave me alone!" By way of an answer, Bob and Jack twisted her arms behind her blowjob-contest back and she was bent forward, hardly able to move. The sight of her slender legs in nylons with suspender straps visible was too much for Steve. One by one he began to undo the buttons down the front of her dress. Doris was helpless. Her distraught face didn't stop Steve. Grunting heavily, he reached the last button. Bob put his arm across Doris's throat and pulled her upright on the seat just as Steve swept aside the loosened dress and sat back, grinning, staring at Doris's slender body now exposed to view in her underwear. Her small pert tits were held in an unnecessary lacy black bra, a tiny thing which still managed to push them up and closer together, offering a amateur-contest little cleavage. Her stockings were attached to the straps of a suspender belt matching her bra, a narrow lacy band round her hips. Her pussy was barely concealed under tiny black lacy knickers forming a vee shape tapering to pencil thin side straps. Doris is small, but her slim body is curvy in the right places. With her knees clamped together, her arms pinned behind her back, trembling, she looked helpless and vulnerable and very sexy. In his crude way, Steve muttered, "Fuck me, this is going to be good!" Doris stared back at him. "What do you mean," she said. "You, darling," Steve answered. "You looked fuckable with your clothes on, and you're even more fuckable with your clothes off." He patted her thigh and ran his hand up and down, beyond the stocking top, slipping his fingers under the suspender strap. "Didn't you know, slut, you're only here cos you've got a nice tight little cunt for us to fuck." With a look of panic, Doris started struggling again, kicking her legs, writhing, trying to free herself from the hands gripping her arms. Of course it was useless. Joe caught one of her ankles, Steve the other, and between them they held Doris with her legs parted, half sitting, half lying, on the edge of the seat. Jack murmured "I've got both her arms." And now Bob had both hands free. Grinning broadly, he squeezed Doris's tits for a moment, saying, "Let's have a look at these little tits." He wrenched the bra downwards. Both of her tits sprang free, two little mounds capped by nipples that already looked a little stiffer than normal. Bob ran bikini-contest his hands over them. “You’re telling me you don’t think about how tight her twat would feel around your dick Dad? “Really?” “I said that I would fuck your corpse. Finally released from the series of kisses from her bridesmaids a breathless Sapphire looked around the room and was shocked by what she saw. As we moved around on the bed, I felt a blowjob-contest new set of hands on me. They were soft, small delicate hands with beautifully bikini-contest decorated nails. He wondered what brought it on so after many moments of silence he had to ask, “So was there something else my pet found interesting in those stories?” He used his Dom voice to get her attention. I didn't amateur-contest feel a bra. Sarah blinked and announced, "It feels funny," as Martha put the second lens in. Your body.” Victor's hand went straight down onto the bare thigh between Doris's legs.


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Jason was in sobbing hysterics as he watched his beloved wife die struggling on the gallows. Suddenly her toes pointed and her feet crossed slightly, locking together one over the other as she stretched her legs to their limit, then releasing their tension, stretching, releasing, over and over again in that lovely, erotic motion she had always used to reach climax, sometimes without even touching herself. Jessica was in another dimension as she stretched her legs over and over. The tampons were Rubbing Her Beaver stimulating her by their rubbing friction. Her entire body stiffened as her feet came together in a stiff point. She could feel wave after wave course through her. For that brief moment, nothing mattered, she was transported and could only feel the massive burst of pleasure. She arched her body and twisted her head up. The crowd saw her wracked with spasms as her legs stretched, toes stiffly pointed. Jessica hung quietly with just a few spasmodic movements. As the wave passed from her, she pointed her toes again, and then her tortured body began to relax. Death was approaching to claim Jessica. Her movement was becoming a reflex spasm of dying nerves. The crowd heard Jessica moan as she forced air past her own crushed throat. The force of the orgasm pushed the remaining air from her lungs. Jessica bucked and writhed in a massive release as her pleasure center began to give her its final energy. Jason watched her shake like a leaf in the wind. Jessica’s body Eager Beaver gave a massive spasm and she writhed and squirmed on the rope again. Her dying nervous system was firing its last burst of energy. As the noose tightened slowly, inexorably, her windpipe inevitably closed off completely, throttling her to complete silence. The inevitable specter of death was also closing in on Jessica. Her eyes were closed to slits and her tongue came out between her lips. The crowd could see her diaphragm contracting as her stomach compressed her abdomen. Jessica’s body was using its last resources to get life giving air. Her knees jerked up gracelessly to the sides several times, hiking her tight skirt and exposing the soaked sanitary napkin. Her legs jigged dementedly, and then reached toward the ground, toes pointed longingly. Her stocking feet crossed over each other again and some spectators heard the whisper of her stockings as her feet crossed and uncrossed. Jason wrenched desperately at his captors. His sanity was at the breaking point, stretched to the limit by his horror over his wife's torture and his own unwelcome but uncontrollable lust. To his self-disgust, his erection had not subsided at all. As her dance turned obscene, he had gotten harder, painfully so, as he watched her beautiful dancer's body capering maniacally like a marionette, strings pulled by a sadistic demon. He heard a woman moan behind him. "If only she wouldn't kick so,” she mused as Jessica continued to writhe and thrash and jerk. An eternity passed. Death was winning the race with arousal. What remained of Jessica Collins no longer cared about arousal; the diminished awareness in her dying brain was seeking release from the struggle. She was nearly still now, her body twitching slightly, her stocking feet languidly straying about, weakly kicking, toes twitching slightly when Jason was suddenly released. Jessica looked dead; she was hanging there very still. Occasionally, her feet would twitch. Then she began to kick very weakly, her toes pointed then relaxed a few times. Jason stared up at the hanging body, feeling as if he was in a nightmare. Jessica’s face was terrible, a travesty of its former loveliness; congested, purple, eyes Old Horny Beavers slitted and staring hopelessly, swollen tongue beginning to protrude obscenely. His gorge rose at the sight of the noose, the thick rope almost completely embedded in the flesh of her slender throat, her head forced askew by the knot, which had worked its way under the corner of her jaw. Her cheeks were wet with tears; the poignancy made his breath catch. The position of the heavy rope and the very tight fit allowed for no blood flow to the brain so Jessica was no longer aware of her situation. Her brain was dying from a lack of circulation. At some level of awareness, the very little bit that remained of Jessica knew that her body was near death and that remaining piece of her soul was looking for that peace and darkness. She gasped loudly. Her pussy squirts copiously all over Dev. "All the better to help you rest, I say. They had been lightly observant of us together and totally were on board with us to marry. Now Sarah was a different story as she saw June walking with a little swing in her hips and a real glint in her eyes. “Ugh, fuck I’m going to cum!” I yelled and released what felt like gallons of cum into this mans mouth and throat. “The best fruit cocktail I’ve ever had, passion fruit juice and Laura juice.” Turning to Sheila I stated, "I think we need to get going if we are going to get anything done." It was harder then he could ever remember. It’s Pristine Valley,” Fontane Eager Beaver laughed. Trevor examined Coach's body with his hands as well Rubbing Her Beaver as his eyes. While I was still fucking her pussy, I wet my finger with the oil in her crack, and pushed my lubed finger into her tight, puckered asshole. “Do it!” I frantically jump, hop, and strain using my arms and legs to try to escape the saddle, desperately not wanting to cum in front of the entire bar. I gasped and bucked. After months of studies, interviews, blood tests and several Old Horny Beavers seductions by her of the very medical professional who were trying to determine what her condition was exactly, they provisionally threw up their hands and said that this seemed to be beyond anything that they could identify.

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