Green hedges flashed past the passenger window, occasional gaps and gates giving Ben glimpses of the fields of Warwickshire, the distant trees rendered grey by the March rain. Really not much to keep his attention from Smita’s wedding ring, glinting on he...
“How do you like my wife’s cunt, boy?” Patrick growled in Ben’s ear, giving his left buttock a fifth spank. His hips thrust forward, with nowhere for the shockwave to go other than into Smita since Ben’s cock was still buried in her pussy, being milked of...
Tell Sir to fuck him good, Miss. The implications of those words sent to his phone from Beth were still making their way through Ben’s brain as his university tutor’s husband dropped his business trousers to reveal navy briefs, bulging at the crotch. “Do...
