And her watering cunt, of course, was filled constantly. A veritable conga-line of eager males f****d her like a w***e: no foreplay, no teasing, no gentleness, just one blunt purple cockhead after another. She was so plump-lipped and swollen and wet—dripping with her own copious lubrication and with the gouts of sperm that each succeeding man left—that they didn’t even have to open her up. She was like some smelly tropical hothouse flower, a hairy blossom of gooey pink into which one happy male beast after another pressed himself balls-deep in the ecstasy of possession. Some drizzling glans would land in her with a sticky plop, and then there would be a sudden frenzy of activity between her thighs, followed with flattering swiftness by a shuddering halt and a gradual feeling of wetness.
W
