The bag ripped open, and I was slammed face-first into a mattress. He didn’t speak; he just ripped my clothes off, the fabric shredding under his grip. He flipped me over, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand while he spat on his palm and rubbed it over my pussy.
“You’re just a hole now,” he sneered, his voice a guttural rasp.
He didn’t use a condom. He shoved his thick cock into me with one violent thrust, nearly splitting me open. I screamed, but he jammed his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries into a whimper. He fucked me with a brutal, rhythmic hatred, slamming his hips against mine. Every thrust was a punch, driving him deep into my cervix. He gripped my hair, pulling my head back to snarl in my ear that I was nothing but a piece of meat for him to use. He finished with a guttural groan, pumping hot cum deep inside my womb before pulling out and leaving me shaking and leaking on the sheets.
It was then I noticed the cameras.
Chelsea
Call Chelsea: (855) 733-5746 ext 4637
Visit Chelsea's Phone Sex Profile
Read Chelsea 's Phone Sex Blog
