Friday, April 20, 2012
Assraped by a Crazy Poetry Bitch (Part 4)
The crazy poetry bitch didn't answer and just kept raping me. I was quite surprised she had a daughter, considering everything.
The daughter stepped angrily through the piles of books and slammed the door to the bathroom. A minute later, she came out naked, also with a strap-on, and stepped up behind her mom, who was still raping me, and started fucking her mom wildly, slapping her on the ass, pulling her hair, and cursing at her in French.
Her mom, now being fucked, anally apparently, too, slowed down her raping momentum, and dropped her rifle to the floor. I took this as a cue to break free, which I did, and I limped over to the couch and tried to sit down but couldn't totally, since my asshurt had returned a bit upon breaking free of the strap-on. So instead I shifted my weight onto only one buttcheek and rested my left shoulder against the soft, velvet couch, which felt quite nice on my naked skin.
Watching this young chick pounding her mom from behind turned me on. It sort of reminded me of an online video I saw of two ladyboys fucking. For some reason it had really aroused me, although I did feel like a complete fag after watching it.
The scene presently unfolding in front of me again brought up those confused feelings and I looked down and noticed my cock was rock hard, which led me to wonder if it'd been hard throughout the entire anal raping. The possibility of that made me feel like far worse of a fag.
The more the mother/daughter team screamed out in pleasure as they fucked, the more hot I got, and before I knew it, I spit in my hand and started wanking like crazy as the poetry bitch's huge tits twirled in circles as her daughter banged away from behind.
Her daughter even started giving her mom a reach around, which I thought was polite, and the mom seemed to enjoy, though I didn't see much point to it all. Still, it was hot for some reason, and I got that tingling feeling one gets right before orgasm.
Hoisting myself up, I pointed my hard cock at the poetry bitch's twirling tits and tried to aim my load at her rapidly revolving nipples, but it was hard to hit them, almost felt like an arcade game. I got at least one of them, though, and spaffed a bit on her daughter's strap-on jerking hand, too.
Exhausted, a rush of vertigo overcame me, and I fell back into the couch and passed out.