He can’t resist my beautiful ass

The Mole People of Brazil: A Lurid Tale of Ass Addiction and Depravity
Byclamafficial

The sultry Brazilian solar beat down upon the bustling streets of São Paulo, as the town’s denizens went about their days in a languid haze. Among the plenty, nonetheless, one lonely soul wandered, his coronary heart heavy with the burden of his deepest, darkest wishes. His anonymous fixations consumed him, driving him to the brink of insanity, till one fateful day he found her.

She was a sight to behold, with raven-black hair cascading down her again in shiny waves. Her pores and skin glistened with a golden tan, a testomony to the limitless summers of her youth. The curve of her hips, rounded and voluptuous, beckoned like a siren’s music, promising pleasure past evaluate. And then there was her ass—that excellent, pert backside that redirected the gaze of all who beheld it.

He watched her from the shadows, his breath quickening as he drank in each delectable element. He knew in that second, he was misplaced—misplaced to the primal urge that consumed his each thought. Lost to the need of worshipping earlier than the altar of her ass.

As if sensing his gaze, she turned, her full, pouty lips curling right into a mischievous smirk. With a flick of her wrist, she gestured for him to observe, main him down the alleyways and aspect streets of the town’s underbelly.

They entered a dingy hole-in-the-wall, a den of iniquity recognized solely to the bravest of souls. Inside, a solid of characters writhed and gyrated underneath the strobe of disco lights, their our bodies glistening with sweat and different, extra sinister fluids. The air was thick with the scent of pheromones and unbridled lust.

She guided him to a dimly-lit nook, pushing him down onto a well-worn couch. Then, with a sleek actions, she hooked her thumbs into her waistband and shimmied out of her miniscule shorts, revealing probably the most wonderful, roundest ass he had ever beheld. It was a murals, a masterpiece carved from the purest marble, but it moved, it breathed, it lived.

Unable to withstand, he reached out, his palms trembling with anticipation as he grabbed maintain of her ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading like a person possessed. She responded with a throaty moan, urgent again into his contact, silently urging him on.

Emboldened, he spanked her, watching in awe because the flesh yielding underneath his palm. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! His hand fell in a gentle rhythm, every blow extra highly effective than the final, till her ass was a deep, fiery crimson and his personal arousal was borderline painful.

“Muito bom,” she purred, her accent thick and heady. “Nao pare. Continua me fudendo com aquela mao grande sua. Quero que voce me foda bem duro.”

He did not want to know the phrases to grasp their that means. The ferocity in her eyes, the way in which she floor her ass again into his hand—all of it spoke of a starvation, a necessity that would solely be satiated by probably the most primal of acts.

With a growl, he stood, rapidly releasing his throbbing cock from the constraints of his pants. She watched him, her eyes darkish with want, as he guided himself to her entrance. And then, with a single, exhausting thrust, he was inside her, the tight, velvety warmth of her pussy enveloping him fully.

They moved in a frenzy, all slapping flesh and panting breaths. He pounded into her, his palms gripping her hips with bruising drive as he chased his pleasure, as he chased his excessive. And she met him thrust for thrust, her ass bouncing obscenely with each affect, begging for extra, for more durable, for quicker.

It was a dance as outdated as time itself, a coupling born of pure, unadulterated lust. There was no sweetness, no tenderness—solely the uncooked, brutal must fuck, to return, to bask in each wicked want.

And once they lastly reached their peaks, it was with a roar of completion, a shared second of ecstasy that appeared to shake the very foundations of the world. He spilled himself inside her, filling her together with his seed, marking her as his personal. And she cried out, her voice echoing by the room as she shook and trembled, her cunt clenching round him like a vice.

But whilst their our bodies cooled and their respiratory slowed, the necessity remained, a relentless ache within the depths of his soul. For he knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that he would by no means be glad—not when he had tasted the forbidden fruit of her ass, not when he had glimpsed the candy, carnal temptations that lay past.