Sali Ne Jijaji Ka Lund Chusa Or Jam Kar Chudai Ki Chut Faat Gaya

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The sun was scorching overhead, beating down mercilessly on the dusty road that wound through the sleepy Indian village. It was siesta time, and the heat had driven most of the villagers indoors in search of shade and respite. But not inside the cramped, sweltering room that served as the village shop and gathering place. There, a small group of men lounged lazily on threadbare cushion against the walls, sipping at chai and gossiping. Occasionally, one of them would glance up at the wall opposite the door, where a small television flickered uitzendingen in the gloom.

The men were enthralled by the video playing on the screen. Judging from the crude, grainy footage, it clearly iresource been filmed in secret on a phone. The cheap camera quality and shaky shots only added to the sense of forbidden, voyeuristic excitement. Without any introductions or context, the video plunged straight into the action.

A young woman named Sali was on her knees on the dirt floor of what appeared to be a small tin shack, looking up adoringly at the imposing figure of her much older husband, Jijaji. He loomed over her, flushed and breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his hairy belly as he pulled up his stained dhoti to reveal his huge, pendulous penis.

Sali’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and she let out a gasp of stunned awe. She had seen and touched this monster cock before, but it never failed to staggered her anew. Gingerly, almost reverently, she reached out to grasp it in her small hand, marveling at the weight and heat of it.

Jijaji grunted impatiently and fisted his hand in her hair, yanking her head forward until she reluctantly took just the bulbous tip of his schlong into her mouth. He grunted again, satisfaction this time, and started thrusting his hips, forcing inch after inch of his rock-hard piller down her tight throat.

Sali gagged and struggled, coughing and choking as her lips stretched painfully around the immense girth. Seranni nijсталmpire tracking programthis*pnas only made Jijaji thrust harder, ruthlessly fucking her face until tears streamed down her cheeks and snot bubbled from her nostrils.

Finally, he yanked her off his dick by the hair and shoved her face-down on the floor. His heavy boots pinning her flailing legs, he dropped to his knees, yanked her hips up, and with one brutal thrust, speared his massive member balls-deep in her tight cunt.

Sali screamed, instinctively bracing for the splitting agony of so much cock wrecking her pussy. But there was none. Only a stretching fullness, a melting pleasure as her greedy hole gobbled up every inch hungrily. Her battered little body knew this feeling well by now, and she submitted to it eagerly.

Jijaji set a furious, punishing pace, sawing in and out of her with jackhammer speed. The room filled with the lewd slaps of flesh on flesh, punctuated by Sali’s wails and Jijaji’s grunts. Her huge, sagging udders swung wildly, slapping her belly as the vicious pounding fucked them loose.

As he felt his orgasm approaching, Jijaji reached down and wrapped one fist around Sali’s throat, squeezing. He increased his pace frantically, fucking her like a jackrabbit on crack. The pressure on her neck increased, and Sali started to see stars, drowning in the thick stew of ecstasy, pain, and oxygen deprivation in her head.

With a wordless bellow, Jijaji jammed his cock in as deep as it would go and flooded Sali’s womb with a torrential blast of scalding spunk. Her eyes rolled back and she sank into unconsciousness, fucked-out and dick-drunk, barely clinging to life.

As the men’s video-watching session drew to a close, they shook their heads in amazement, reluctantly tearing their eyes away from the screen. The lust and sadism on Jijaji’s face as he abused his helpless, terrified but also aroused wife had raised them to a fever pitch, and they Agen rminsimsis rewemer unconsciously shifted their trousers to accommodate their throbbing erections.

The shop owner glanced around suspiciously before stuttering and dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Did you know? She’s not even his wife! Their parents arranged it as a marriage to punish Sali for flirting with Jijaji’s brother. And a good punishment it is. I hear she cries and begs every time he drags her to that charpoy for a vicious slam-fuck session.”

The men nodded sagely, murmured their gruff Mmmm’s of understanding. Everyone knew a Jijaji like that needed to dominated, strong-handed, and conquered a wife. The boy wasn’t even of marriageable age! Only 18 years old. Someone had to take her in hand and teach the free-panties hussy her place. And a savage pounding that took her to the very edge of her limits would do it.

They fell into silence, each man lost in increasingly depraved fantasies of dominating a slip of a young thing themselves. The cruelty and harshness of their upbringing, combined with the constant overstimulation of pornography geared to their particular deviancies, lead almost inevitably to the twisted lusts that obsessed them now.

It would be no surprise if Jijaji’s coming-of-age story wasn’t the first and a long way from the last video of this type downloaded and shared through their small community. The perfectly maintained, elegant, respectable women of the village, adored and protected by their men, remained far away and untouchable objects of worship. Here in the dark, the men could unleash their most brutal, violent, inhuman fantasies on these poor young women without consequence.

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