God, the terrible but still strangely hypnotic thought of that strange, lubrication-slicked organ sliding thick and veiny right into her hairy cunt, balls-deep and bloated fat as a fist, drizzling upon the walls of satiny warm pink as he excited himself over and over with the smooth, supple slide of her beautiful bare intimacy. Yes, for that was what the watching husband’s once-staid Samantha wanted for her—to be manhandled, mounted, possessed. She had talked about this moment for day after day, dreamed of it night after night, and now she was open and hairy and smelly and wet. Oh, how Tom longed for Mike to just f**k her for all he was worth, to hurry up and grunt out his completion, and give her his orgasm, and show her how utterly feminine and desirable and satisfying she was! Benevolen
