Lexxibrooks Camsoda's Profile

Languages: English

Location: Germany

Smokes/Drinks: No|No

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Lexxibrooks Camsoda - See how his big cock while girl watches and learns.

Look at the pink bar. She is petite, yet tall built, judging by the size of her beer belly. "You should see her more in the next time she comes over. You want the taste of her, don't you?" "Oh, yes, sweetie, anytime!" Her eyes are bright, her back is turned, her breasts spread out, her petite nipples visible through her bra and nips peeking out from her shaved dark-brown pussy. As I let my hand linger on her arm, she smacks it with a cane. "Crawl to me, child." She cruelly bows her head and writhes in her seat, her long, pinkish-red nails digging into the stone beneath her. The black of the cane marks the deep, red marks on her back from the lashes. The jangling of the crowd is deafening, as each and every sound is conjured forth, in spasms, in whimpers, in low tortured moans. I am slow, and watch anxiously as the woman is beaten yet again. Tears well up again in her eyes, and she struggles, in pain, in ecstasy. Sometimes I see the older gentleman look down at his prize, and I let my gaze linger there.

His big, bald head rests on his folded arms, his eyes half-closed, his lips slightly parted. His spiky hair is swept up in his lap, and his body is left behind only in his underwear. His furious breathing, black as blood, half-seen because of the sudden sobbing. It is a breath away from my ear, and I can feel that the man has come close. A gloved hand finds a dark velvet glove, and rapidly scratches a spot across my cheek. I struggle, desperately, rubbing the sore, newly restored skin. The slash of the leather bonds itself around the middle of my back, creating two more quick, elfin smacks. My back arches, and my back spasms. Soft feminine laughter murmurs around me, and the cuff links holding my hand immobile are released. My other hand joins the one in cuffed, and suddenly my whole body is in a, "hold still, my dear," kind of position. The slight pressure of the cuffs startsle me again. The rough hand grazes the young woman's ass, and I mumble, "Please, Mistress, pardon me for my lack of composure.

I just want to be able to please You...I'm sorry." She caresses my cheek again, then her other hand finds my wrestling clit, and slowly but carefully she spreads the veins around the engorged clit, milking it for blood. The implication of her words, "Please, Mistress...I'm...sorry..." is all that I can think of as I press my cheek harder against the leather, feeling the heat rise in my throat. She purrs, and rises to her feet slowly, circling me, inspecting me. She lifts her arms, and brings her hands up, slowly unclips the nipple clamps, then slowly pulls them away from each other. The blood seeps out, and I stare up at her face for a long moment, growing wetter with every second that passes. She lowers her head, smiling, her lips lightly caressing mine. I catch my breath for a moment, then sigh softly. As quickly as it started, it is over. The chairs are cleared away, and I crawl up the stone floor to stand beside the large, spilled tea towel that still dangles there. Still, the tension is choking me, and I feel that I have a new friend in this world. Mero is small, perhaps a man or a boy, but his strong, S-shaped body seems to draw me as well..

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