They can’t help it!He asks.When we’d banging finished eating the main course the waiter came and took our plates away and asked us if we’d like anything else.The two giggled playfully.Probably because of retro the alcohol I agreed to it.One day Amy was so uptight and distraught I offered uniform to give her a massage to relax her.Absolutely not.Been kind of busy of late.The older orgy man stroked a podgy hand over his face, as if smoothing an invisible beard, but feeling only stubble against his palm.The mature Biladi tells me. It would be quite lucrative for you, I'm sure.So, classic he keeps some part of his life secret from his friends. Jennifer's body started to shudder with pleasure, her mind blanking, focused entirely on the feeling of her breast being milked like an udder, her creamy milk filling up someone's glass on the other side of the wall. Being used banging like a drink dispenser made her more wet than any amount of self-milking ever could, and she felt disappointed when the hands only gave her a single pull, though her orgy breast felt more comfortable without being stuffed to capacity. While her nipples were still tingling uniform and wet from her mild milking, Jennifer felt the first touch of pain at the hands of the strangers. The leather tip of a riding crop snapped against her nipple without warning, the sharp biting sensation of its impact fading quickly into a warm ache as her breast jiggled. Though she'd known she'd be hurt, it came as a shock, and she realized she had been lucky even to get a teasing taste of pleasure before the abuse began. She bit her lip, trying to thrust her chest out for more, though her tits were already pushed as far into the other room as they could be. Another hit came, impacting her other nipple classic and sending a squirt of milk from her as she cried out at the agony. Her pussy convulsed, squeezing around nothing as the pain throbbed in the tender tip of her tit. Unconsciously, she braced herself for the next strike, eager for more. But it was not the riding crop to hit her, when pain lanced through her next. Instead, a punch hit her soft, hanging flesh, retro and Jennifer let out a shocked sob, trailing off into a gasp of pleasure as her bruised flesh bounced. Another hit came, knocking one breast sharply against the other, the obscene sound of skin slapping together echoing in her ears as she felt her milk spray with each impact. This was everything she'd ever wanted, milking and abuse, objectification and casual use. Whoever was on the other side was strong, a faceless brute that used her tits like punching bags without a hint of mercy.