marce fit

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

She worked her head like a machine, inhaling as much of his dick and then slowly rising up, enjoying every inch she could. Knowing how heavy a sleeper he was now, she started to bounce with each movement, using the momentum to cram her father’s cock further down her throat each time. After a minute or so of his fervent blowjob, her father’s cock jumped in her mouth and started filling it with his seed. Sarah didn’t wait like last time and swallowed each emission as they came, greedily sucking the tip each time and hoping for more.

Such a cute little human you are, doctor, and you've done so well looking after us while we infest this machine. Do you see how hard our clocks have gotten whenever you're near us? Or how our breasts leak this "milk" substance you speak of?