“Sure,” says the German with an evil grin. He pulls back slowly, letting his large cock ease backwards – only to thrust forward again. The force his enough to knock Charlotte back against stone cold wall of church.
Charlotte gasps, mixed feelings racing through her vulnerable body. It hurts but it’s good. It’s good but it hurts. “No…” Charlotte tries to protest.
~Wait for it, wait for it…~ the voice of the thong seems to be expecting something.
“Yes!” demands the tattoo covered man again and with that he lets his control go. He pounds into Charlotte, pumping his cock deep into her with each stroke, slamming her body back against the stone with each stroke, grunting like an animal with each stroke.
Again and again he pounds into Charlotte’s ruined body; bashing her against the wall, fucking her like some sort of sex toy and racing towards his own pleasure and release.
The German’s climax is loud. He roars in pleasure. Spunk spills forth, flooding its warmth into Charlotte as his pleasure peaks.
“Yeah,” he pants, “Good,” and as he eases back he lets go of Charlotte, allowing her body to crumple to the ground before him. His cock slides out from her pussy, batters across her stomach and breast to leave a strand of cum.
Charlotte’s body ached. She was sore. She was horrified at what had happened. She refused to believe, despite the whispering of the thong, that deep down she had rather enjoyed that. She hadn’t. She had hated it. She would have to escape.
“We’re going now,” announces the German, “Up to the cabin.” |