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Sam and Frank collect their Grand Prize.

Her eyes begin to well up as his cock bottomed out inside her, and began to stretch. They'd been together three years, but she still had never been able to take all of him inside her. She tried at every opportunity. She had taught herself to kiss the base when he fucked her throat, but her other lips had never touched there. Her ass cheeks felt the ripples of his abs as he deepened his penetration. She hated herself for masturbating when she could have waited. She hated herself for taking a long, luxuriant shower when he had been laboring in ways she couldn't imagine.

Most of all, though, she hated herself for enjoying this. She hated her knees from going weak from the deep penetration. She hated her pussy for melting as the spear pierced her. She began crying uncontrollably, even as her pelvis began to quiver again. He saw her tears, and just plunged deeper, hissing "Fucking bitch, you're going to cry now? Dirty cunt." He pulled her hair harder, and started thrusting into her. "You probably want me to do this," he concluded, and began to flick his middle finger, the one that lay across her pubes, left and right. It stroked over her clit, and her mouth soundlessly opened, a giant mute O. Her oozing became a cascade, as though a wound bleeding clear from a stab from a thick, flesh sword. Every muscle in her body slackened, her eyes rolled back in her head. Her pit emptied and filled, her body pinned against the chair, and her clit suffered the stroking abuse of a rough finger. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she stopped breathing for perhaps ten seconds, even as her heart raced. It felt like her chest was going to burst, her lungs on fire, dying for air, her breath held from pure ecstacy. Those ten seconds felt like an eternity, asphyxia spotting her vision.

When the world stopped spinning, Lucy was on the ground, James standing above her, staring down in utter revulsion. She was spread eagled, bruised, pink, wet, covered in sweat. His gaze into her eyes was unbroken, his mouth turned in a disappointed sneer. She bit her lip harder. Her arms came in from the eagle's position, and moved to her crotch. She closed her eyes started to stroke. Tears of shame still streaming down her cheeks, she whispered "More please," and sobbed.

"What?" he demanded.

"More please!" she half-shouted. Her eyes popping open. Her head tilted back as her fingers reentered her sanctuary. He kneeled down, lying his package between her breasts. He said just one word—"Slut"—and it cut her deeply. And she enjoyed it. And that made her feel even worse.

She began to pump her fingers in and out of herself, thrusting them in and out in an echo of the penetration she had just received. "Selfish bitch," he threw at her, grabbed her nose, and pulled her head forward. She yelped quietly, as his cock stabbed the soft underside of her chin. She opened her mouth, and moaned lightly as she suckled on his head. She tasted herself on him, and sucked in, as he pumped her head onto and off his shaft. Her tongue played with his head, as her hands played with her clit. She stroked and frigged herself, while circling his head with her tongue tip.

"Dirty bitch, you like tasting your cunt. How many times did you do it while I was working my ass off down at Page? Huh?" he pumped her head harder, his cock abusing her mouth. She couldn't meet his stare, all the more so because of how good it felt—her masturbation, and the punishment in her jaw—and she squealed as James's free hand slapped her tits, and began to rip and tear at her nipples, pinching the areole whole, and smacking the tender flesh.

She looked forward, down the long shaft emerging from her mouth, to the thick black hair at its base.

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