My Beastly Husband
CH 84.2
Chelsea’s member below ferociously hit Moussa, but she spoke in a gentle tone.
“Slow down.
Slow down.
Chelsea.
Ah! We.
Have all night.
Time.
Slow.
Slow to.
Aah!” Moussa could not stand his fast and deep pounding, and she began to beg for mercy in a soft and broken voice.
“Okay, I’ll slow down.
We have plenty of time, don’t we?” Chelsea remembered that she said she would let him f*ck her all night.
He got in a good mood and slowed down.
Chelsea slowly withdrew his thick member from her and slowly inserted it again.
At the same time, he was on her back with his big hand going around to the front and pressing on her belly, which was bulging along with the entry of his member.
“Mmmmm,” Moussa breathed a sigh of relief and got up to lie on the edge of the bed, humming weakly.
Although his speed slowed down at which she was hit, it was not much more comfortable.
The feeling of being stretched to the extreme was more obvious, and even the throbbing of the veins on the meat stick could be clearly felt.
The large glans were slowly rotating at the cervix, forcing the delicate cervix to gradually open its mouth and suck it in with a slight bite.
“Relax, baby.
You’re clenching so tightly, I can’t take my time.” Chelsea moaned in comfort while thrusting hard into Moussa’s.
The ever-tightening hole stimulated him to move more roughly, gradually moving faster and faster.
“Aaah! Mmm.
Slowly.
Slowly,” said Moussa.
As Chelsea slammed her ferociously, his member drove straight into her womb.
The sound of “plop, plop” kept ringing out from the union.
He was moving faster and faster, and Moussa was moaning incoherently as he pounded her.
“I can’t slow down anymore.
Baby, you’re so tight.” His hands clasped her waist firmly.
That long and thick member slammed and sprinted even more wildly into her body without any skill.
There was no technique, what nine shallow and one deep, three shallow and one deep, at the moment, he could not care less.
He attacked by instinct and f*cked Moussa more wildly than ever and deeper than ever.
“Aaah!” Moussa clutched the animal skin beneath her.
Her belly was constantly contracting, and her red and swollen flower had been stretched to its limit.
She involuntarily opened and closed to try to swallow the ferocious smashing of the large flesh.
The two bodies were violently clashing and rubbing, with the inner walls of the swollen and engorged flower beginning to spasm as the member pounded in and out each time with a splash of juice.
Moussa’s mind gradually became muddled.
She vaguely remembered that her original intention was to give him the most extreme enjoyment.
Her small hand went down and pressed down while her belly was being pushed up, adding to his pleasure.
“Mmmm.
So good f*cking you,” Chelsea roared in ecstasy.
He lifted her body for another wild thrust.
Then, at Moussa’s orgasmic screams, Chelsea lifted her legs and turned her around.
He stood up straight, grabbed her feet, and lifted her up so that her waist left the wooden bed and her whole body hung in the air.
“Aaah! Can not.
So much.
Ah.
Get out first.
First, ah!” due to the orgasm which desperately contracted her flower, she could not withstand Chelsea’s thick member of flesh heavily rubbing her sensitive inner walls.
The pain, comfort, and tingling came together, making Moussa twist and turn violently, trying to squeeze out the huge thing that was sprinting ferociously inside her.
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