822 – Fisting INSEX – Remastered – Real Time Bondage
He spied her, hot and young and rash, And trussed her, goose-like, hands and feet. He taped her mouth and ripped her dress.
To probe and carve her like a meat. Driven like half-maddened beasts, The bulk of men act out of haste. But slowly binding her, he thinks.
That Girl is an acquired taste. Gleaming pussy, gaping cunt His due reward, fresh from the hunt. With instruments of steel and chrome.
He examined his new prize he owned. He trained his doggie with his touch. And fucked her with his favorite lunch. Sausage seasoned with a girl. And ripened female for dessert. He filled her with his fingers first.
Up to the knuckles, nothing worse Then slipped inside her past his thumb And troubled her and made her come. And so he saved the best for last An apéritif of Girl, what less?
He bit her on her pearly ass And striped her red with cane and lash. Her parted thighs, her rose-bud flesh.
He ripped and gnawed and tore and gnashed She squealed and begged. She cried, implored – Both man and girl, entrapped in cord.
