The girl thrashed more now than she had since their work began, her big breasts knocking back and forth and her hips rocking side to side, looking as if they were straining to close, to cover her nakedness and the private places now brutally bared. Her neck and face reddened. Was she embarrassed or aroused? Her frantic movements panicked or fraught with desire?
Her fighting and thrashing got her nowhere. The warm female hands moved with ease over every inch of her lustrous body. The three massaged her legs, her thighs, her belly, her breasts; their lips tugged at the blindfold, and the buds of her n*****s, and in one bold and terrorizing move a finger, Daphne’s to be precise, moved in-between her lower lips and inched its way deep where it might find a wetness gathering there. She shudder
