kazuharu fukuyama

Mrs. B. was very different, though. Our class only met once a week, but there were times when she and I would cross paths in the course of a day. I noticed that either she must have changed her path to avoid me or averted her gaze when we did cross paths. She did not appear to be her usual ebullient self. She was noticeably absent from her office during times I would usually drop in to say hello. I guessed the experience was not the life changing event for her as it was for me.

I'd love to be used like this pumped out to ugly men and monsters to use taking their loads as my master gets payed.

“Oh, take it you little whore!” she squealed, her hips jerking powerfully against my ass, the hot, molten flood of her seed making me gasp as I felt it shooting deeply up my ass! “Take it! Take my fucking cum!” Wave after wave she gave it to me, her huge, amazing cock pulsing and throbbing in time with the unbelievable pounding of her hips. Then suddenly she stopped, almost as if somebody had thrown her switch, buried to the hilt but completely immobile. She stayed there for a long, slow moment, eyes closed in rapture, barely even twitching but utterly lost to the ecstasy of her release. She pulled out slowly, leaving me strangely empty and wanting, supporting herself with her hand on my stomach as she tottered unsteadily around to my side in her heels. She bent low over top of me, her huge, amazing tits pressing warm and heavy against my chest.