Primal

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The shoot starts. I get as far as pulling her hair and already her beaver is soddening wet. She’s grinding her hips against the floor and attempting to pull up her skirt. She can scarcely wait for me to put an asshook in and fasten it to her hair, wrenching her head back and pulling the flesh on her neck tight as a drum. I keep shoving her and shoving her to watch how far I can go. I tie her sitting astride a barrel with her gams opened up wide. I dribble super-hot wax on her nipples, inward hips and labia. She groans with agony at first, but shortly her eyes embark to coat over and her groans are substituted with groans of pleasure. She stuffs her tongue out and catches the runs in rivulets of wax in her mouth. Her toes ripple and curl up. She throws her head about and attempts to bite my face. She comes so hard she almost loses consciousness. As shortly as we’re done she wants more.