Tatuado do Miraza comendo o cu da magrinha

The sun beat down mercilessly on the abandoned gas station, its rays glinting off the rusted pumps and cracked sidewalk. The air was heavy with the stench of stale gasoline and the lingering heat of the midday sun. Inside the dilapidated building, a lone figure stood in the shadows, his body tense and alert.

Tatuado do Miraza was known throughout the neighbourhood for his rough demeanour and even rougher appearance. Covered from head to toe in tattoos and sporting a jagged scar across his cheek, he looked every bit the hardened criminal. But today, something different sparked in his eyes as he heard a faint sound coming from the back room.

There, huddled in the corner, was a young woman. Her skin was pale and her body was thin, making her look more like a frail twig than the hardened criminal Tatuado had expected to find. She looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes, her bottom lip trembling as she tried to control her fear.

Tatuado stepped into the room, his heavy boots thudding against the concrete floor. He loomed over the woman, his tall frame casting a shadow across her small body. “What are you doing here, little one?” he growled, his voice deep and menacing. “This isn’t a place for a pretty thing like you.”

The woman cowered back, pressing herself against the wall as if trying to disappear. “I…I was just looking for a place to rest,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

Tatuado let out a gruff chuckle, the sound sending shivers down the woman’s spine. He reached out and grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Rest is the last thing on my mind right now,” he growled, his other hand slowly sliding down to grip her hip. “I think we can find a better use for your time.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening. She tried to pull away, but Tatuado’s grip was too strong. He used his free hand to tear open her flimsy shirt, exposing her small, perky breasts. He let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, you’re a fine little thing,” he purred, roughly groping her tits.

The woman let out a whimper, tears welling up in her eyes as Tatuado continued his rough assault. He shoved her down to her knees, his large hand wrapped around the back of her neck. “Open up, little girl,” he growled, unzipping his dirty jeans to reveal his hardening cock.

The woman shook her head desperately, but Tatuado just chuckled. “Come on, I know you want it,” he taunted, roughly shoving his cock against her face. “Suck it like a good little slut.”

The woman had no choice but to comply. She wrapped her small hand around his thick shaft and licked tentatively at the swollen head. Tatuado groaned in approval, using his grip on her hair to force her farther down his length. “That’s it, take it all,” he growled, his hips rocking forward as he began to fuck her face.

The woman gagged and choked as he pushed himself deep into her throat, tears streaming down her face. But Tatuado just grunted, lost in his own pleasure as he used her mouth for his own enjoyment. He pulled out only when he felt himself getting close, hauling the sobbing woman to her feet.

He spun her around and bent her over, ripping her flimsy shorts down to expose her tight little ass. He gave it a hard slap, watching as the flesh jiggled. “Fuck, that’s a nice ass,” he growled, rubbing himself against her entrance. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

The woman let out a desperate whimper, but it was too late. Tatuado gripped her hips and slammed forward, burying himself balls deep in her tight heat. She screamed at the sudden intrusion, her body convulsing at the overwhelming sensation. But Tatuado just groaned, loving the way her walls squeezed around him.

He started to move, pulling out only to slam back in, setting a brutal pace. The woman could only moan and whimper as he used her, his thick cock stretching her open and pounding against her cervix. She had never been fucked so hard in her life, and a part of her was worried she wouldn’t survive it.

Tatuado could feel his climax building, his thrusts growing erratic and desperate. He reached around with one hand to rub at the woman’s clit, desperate to make her come. “Come on, little slut,” he growled, slamming into her harder. “Milk my fucking cock.”

The woman let out a ragged scream as her orgasm crashed over her, her body convulsing around Tatuado’s cock. It was enough to send him over the edge, and with a groan he buried himself deep and came, flooding her with his hot seed.

They collapsed together, both panting and spent. Tatuado pulled out, watching in satisfaction as his cum leaked out of the woman’s red, swollen hole. “Fuck, that was good,” he groaned, tucking himself back into his jeans. “I might have to keep you around.”

The woman could only whimper in response, her body aching and used. She knew she should be disgusted, should be angry at the way he had used her. But a part of her, a shameful part, was already craving more. Tatuado had awakened something in her, a dark, depraved desire that she had never even known she possessed.

As Tatuado walked away, leaving her broken and bleeding on the floor, the woman knew she was truly fucked. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. One thing was for certain, though – she would never be the same again.

On the one hand, this story is a detailed and steamy exploration of a hardcore, non-consensual sexual encounter. It describes the woman’s fear and revulsion in detail, while also highlighting the raw, animalistic pleasure that Tatuado derived from his rough assault. The woman’s shame at her own willingness to submit, even while being violated, is a dark and taboo element that adds an extra layer of depravity.

On the other hand, it’s important to note that this is a work of fiction, and that consent is a crucial component of any sexual act. The woman’s lack of agency in the story is a reflection of her vulnerability and powerlessness in the situation, not a celebration of non-consensual sex. This is a story of a woman being taken against her will, not a story of willing participation.

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