I whispered in her ear, "Are you really as huge of a whore that I think you are?" she shouted"I am more!" I said to her"Do you want a chance to prove it to me?" she said"I will do anything that will turn you on, I will never say no to you" I said"Ok we will talk about what you are going to do later."Still holding a handful of her hair and my cock completely buried in her ass, I grabbed Amiees black 8inch dildo off the floor and pushed the entire length into her mouth and down her throat. I told her to keep it in her mouth and she complied without hesitation. I continued pounding her ass. She was moaning so loud with the fake cock in her mouth that I couldn't hold my cum back anymore. I pulled out of her ass held onto her hair and moved in front of her face. The sight of her with a huge black dildo in her throat was more then I could take and I blew my load all over her face. I smeared the cum all over her face with my cock, Aimee just knelt there wait for me to finish. I pulled the. But of course, Phillip was no machine, or if he was he was living one; Penelope was aware of the sticky, salty taste of the sweat dappling his skin, the hotness of his ragged breaths against her own bare flesh, the electric sensitivity of the tiny hairs standing upright all over him, and of course, the turgid, swollen pulse of his cock, gorging itself on the lurid wetness of her own too-human body. Most animal-like of all were the guttural grunts and moans coming from his mouth (and, she realized with a start, her own), the discordant melody of his writhing, thrusting, squirming body, too full of flesh to suit the mechanical longings of his spirit. Phillip was a mismatched suite of contradictions, always; beautiful ugliness, awkward grace, stilted passion, animalistic automation, wet heat. The act of release, the very notion of spilling, seemed remarkably unlike Phillip, and Penelope took depraved joy in having driven him to that point, though when she looked at her own reflection.
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