He kept doing this until I realized that I was no longer whimpering from the pain but moaning from the pleasure that was shooting straight down to my ...ripping pussy. I went rigid and he just laughed saying that he knew I was enjoying, calling me his whore. ‘What are you bitch?’ I refused to answer him, clamping my mouth together in defiance. ‘I asked you what you are you fucking bitch!’ he screamed while slapping my face twice. ‘Your whore.’ I replied meekly hoping that he would stop hitting. He squeezed firmly, steadily, and Icould feel the pressure building slightly behind my eyes, hear thebuzzing inside my ears. I wasn't scared, though. I wondered how long hewould continue to tighten his grip. Would I pass out before he came? Thenwhat? It came out of the blue--my own orgasm--a bursting flood of warmththat bathed my crotch like a golden corona, emblazoning my panties. Atthe same time, his cock began disgorging it's contents down myconstricted throat. I went limp all over. I think. More

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