I knocked at room 1213 and the door was opened as far as the chain allowed.

“I’ve got a present from Diya,” I started pointing to the wrapped parcel I held.

As Aniya Sharma opened the door Jessika used her Doc Martins on the door and burst through knocking Aniya to the floor, and quickly shut and locked the door behind her and me. She motioned the Indian woman to rise. As Aniya got to her feet, I took a close look at her. About 5 ft 3, a long not round, lighter skinned pretty face, black straight shoulder-length hair, wearing her travel guide uniform; a board tight short red skirt and matching jacket, red and white checked cravat at her neck. Black stockings encased shapely solid legs and I estimated she was about 35, 120 pounds and a 34C 28 37 figure.

“Bitch, I’m going to send you back to Diya battered, bruised, broken and fucked as a message of what I’ll do to her next. Tonight, you’ll eat English not Indian and feel English pain,” Jessika threatened, looking imposing and threatening in a tank top and jeans and being far taller and heavier than the Indian.

Unfazed Aniya replied, “If you are going to inflict pain on my ears by talking then I’m scared, but if you want to use your body the sooner the better because I can fuck you before Keiko comes and then you’ll have a double feed of Indian.” As she spoke, she took off her jacket and with some difficulty slid the tight short skirt down her legs. Jessika waited patiently as Aniya finished by removing her blouse and cravat, finally standing ready dressed in her black bra, thong, black pantyhose and heels.

“I’m ready, slut. I’m going to make you my fuck doll. Now get ready bitch.

Jessika removed her Doc Martins and jeans and was struggling to get her tank top over her head when Aniya attacked. A striking coiled fist to her belly almost winded Jessika and as she dry-retched, Aniya moved in close, grabbed the tank top and twisted it tightly with one hand immobilizing Jessika’s arms above her head, and used her other to pull Jessika’s large tits from her bra and dig her fingers into the tit flesh. Controlling her this way she pulled Jessika’s arms, still secured by the twisted tank top down so Jessika was bent double, stepped back and kicked her in the belly. Then another and another. Not quickly, but slowly, letting Jessika partially gather her breath before delivering her next kick.

“Stupid Englishwoman, you like pain, I see.”

Well, I suppose I had better begin at the start. A few nights before this Jessika and I had spent the first couple of nights in Thailand doing the rounds of the main Bangkok areas: Pat Pong, Soi Cowboy, New Petchburi Road area, and so on but like many others of late we found it to be overpriced and took the 3-hour trip to Pattaya, a small beach town just a few hours drive from Bangkok. What surprised me was the influx of the new rich of Asia: the gold-wearing upper middle class of India. The Japanese and Chinese had been replaced though the Aussies still dominated the lower end of the market.

At Pattaya, the clubs were similar but cheaper, and the girls were more friendly, both for me and Jessika who managed 6 Thais in one night for the sum of USD100. But clubs like the Classroom, Diamond Agogo, The Soi Diamond off Walking Street and the Dollhouse merely whetted our appetite for more and we started wandering more from the main streets looking for woman v woman shows.

The Ownly Pusssy Club (that’s the spelling the spluttering, flickering Neon lights displayed and we took it to mean only pussy) looked promising. From the wizened toothless grandmother holding the sign listing as written the events (I later found out she was 48, not the 75 she looked) ranging from girl and girl lezbian, to pussie electric, pussie magic flower, pussy write a letter, pussy chopsticks and another 18 events, to the dark sleazy entrance we felt we had found it despite the spelling mistakes.

We entered to be greeted in the small empty room by the Mamasan, Supaporn (I nearly died laughing at her name but it’s for real). She proudly said “The Show” started soon and clapped her hands and 6 girls approached. Girls? None of them would see 30 again and while not as bad as the ancient Thai Blow Job Bar women who are at the bottom of the pile, they were not Miss Universes. But the drink prices, even for coke and Sangsom (Thai whiskey, and the lolly water the girls had were cheap. But no show. We questioned Supaporn but she kept saying, “Soon, soon.”

Just as we were about to leave the grandmother issued in a minibus group of Indian tourists, about a dozen men, a middle-aged woman and 2 Thai girls rented for the occasion. Then the show began. The room was so small that our table was touching the stage and we watched as a naked Thai crushed an egg in her pussy ... talk about strength ... Another had a glass of water poured into her cunt while standing on her hands, then got upright and walked around ... and then later released all the water from her pussy into the glass. Another girl used her cunt as a bellows to blow out a candle.

The star-turn was a hefty Thai farm girl with few inhibitions. Though she kept her bra on, shyness didn’t stop her from blasting dozens of bananas from her twat. No ping pong balls for this woman. Her effective range was an amazing 15ft and the entire audience took a heavy barrage. It’s a rare skill, even in Thailand, and her mother must be very proud. Luckily, I still had one Thai bar girl sitting on my lap, so I asked her to sit quietly and be my human shield against the flying fruit. She consumed two lady drinks and only got hit by one banana, so I reckon that she was the big winner.

But there was more. Suddenly the music stopped, Supaporn’s voice announced something in Thai (or incomprehensible English: we never will know) and suddenly the stage was flooded with colourful lights. The farm girl reappeared carrying a small bucket and tube. Supaporn got a Japanese tourist to stand 1½ meters from the stage (almost at the back of the room) and hold a balloon up. The woman on stage dropped to the floor, spread her legs, held up the tube then inserted it. She pulled something out of the small basket. It was a dart. She loaded the dart into the tube and tensed. She shot, but she missed. Now while this woman had some mad muscular control going on, her precision left something to be desired. After several attempts, she burst the balloon. Once her mission was complete, she removed the tube, grabbed her basket and departed from the stage.

Again, Supaporn’s voice was heard, the lights flooded the stage, and another girl strode up the stairs holding a big scrapbook and the largest crayon I had ever seen. It was about a meter long. She spied Jessika and me and spoke. “Where you from?”

“Australia,” I replied.

“Giday mate,” she drawled with a fairly good approximation of an Aussie accent. Must have a lot of 40-year-plus desperate Aussies here, I thought. With an enthusiastic giggle and smile, she placed the scrapbook on the floor and squatted over it rather like a sumo wrestler. She then stuck the giant crayon up her cunt and bent a little lower until it made contact with the page. She placed a hand on the floor for some extra balance and proceeded to move her hips around erratically. After a minute or so of this, she stood up, pulled the crayon out with a plop, picked the book up and held it up so the audience could see. HELLO AUSTRALIA! Jessika and I clapped and cheered loudly but somewhat reluctantly. We weren’t entirely sure what the corrected etiquette was whilst in a club and a performer writes hello to you with her cunt. It appeared we chose the correct option as her smile widened and she collected her apparatus and departed.

Next, a scrawny bony Thai about 30 years old came on stage walking rather strangely. Sort of like she had a cock that she was trying not to damage. After a little while, she dropped to the floor, pulled a face like she was going to shit and widened her legs a little more. She then used her hands to make her slit open a little more when all of a sudden something was moving within. After a few more moments it took flight and flew out of her cunt. It was a budgie. That certainly redefined the term “Budgie smuggling” for me, and I will never think of the ex-Australian PM, Tony Abbot wearing his budgie smugglers at the beach in the same way. Look it up on google.

She danced around for a bit then did what seemed to be a break-dancing move that finished up with her on her side with her legs apart. She put her fingers in and acted pleasantly surprised. With a small tug, we saw something glowing (any more live animals we wondered) and it gradually became longer. It was like a glowstick but in rope form. She pulled about a metre out then danced around the stage making full use of the poles and leaving little to the imagination. With one leg placed above her head on the pole, she took hold of the rope and pulled. Out came another meter of it and another. Soon enough the entire thing was out and after a little skipping with it, she left the stage.

Another break. Supaporn announced with the pride of a person announcing the opening of the Olympics that the next “Event” was the woman lesbian show. I could sense Jessika’s excitement rising; we were so close it would be almost like being in bed with the girls. Mamasan Supaporn came to our table. Up close she was quite okay for her age, certainly better than her employees or the grandmother out front.

“Two hours are gone, you pay,” she said smiling and bowing.

Jessika reached for her wallet in her bum bag. Her brow furrowed and she searched again.

“Greg my wallet is not here; can you pay?”

As we were taking turns to pay for each night’s entertainment, I had left mine in the hotel safe. “Money,” Supaporn demanded.

I tried to negotiate, “Tomorrow at 9 am,” wheedle “Tomorrow, double,” bluster “It’s been stolen here; we’ll get this place shut down.”

“Money, now.”

“Time to run,” I whispered to Jessika just as two Thai cops entered the club. You know the type; starched, ironed creased board tight uniform, polished boots, and belt, a holstered pistol that makes Dirty Harry’s look like a small, concealed weapon and nightstick. Relief, the cavalry had arrived. Instead, they went straight to the two Thai girls with the Indians and asked them for their papers. Grabbing the girl’s hands, they spread them on the stage and used their nightclubs. It would be some time before either of the girls gave a handjob.

“Any trouble, Mum,” one asked Supaporn.

“No son, the customer just going to pay.”

The Indian tourists almost knocked each other over in the rush to pay Supaporn. After counting the money, she came to our table accompanied by her two sons and an offer we couldn’t refuse. “You,” pointing at Jessika, “work off the debt, fuck and sexfight my girls for the Indians to watch.”

Ten minutes later Jessika was nude on her back on the stage with the crayon writer Nataya, 5 ft, 95 pounds, 32 26 34, holding her shoulders and the 5 ft 2, 80 pound, 30 22 29 budgie lady, Tasanee face down between her legs, her tongue exploring Jessika’s cunt. The contrast was immense: The obvious difference in skin colour, the fact that Jessika was nearly a foot taller and twice as heavy, her tits were melons compared to mandarins, her areolae were huge, theirs were non-existent highlighting the size of their erect nipples. They were shaven, whereas Jessika had an auburn-covered mound that was starting to leak pussy juice.

A few minutes later Jessika screamed and bucked to orgasm and Supaporn took a 10 Baht bill rolled it and shoved it into Tasanee’s cunt. Smiling, Tasanee entwined her fingers into Jessika’s cunt hair and roughly pulled it towards Jessika’s face to bring Jessika’s clit out of her cunt lips so she could take it fully in her mouth. Meanwhile, the stockier 40-year-old Nataya had dropped her mouth onto Jessika’s pendulous tits and was sucking a nipple like a newborn babe as she fingered herself.

Fifteen minutes later and Tasanee had 5 bills inserted in her cunt and Jessika was moaning each time Tasanee raked her clit. In a last desperate effort, the lesbian fitness freak managed to break Nataya’s hold of her shoulders, reach up and back and grab the short, naked Thai around her hips and topple and drag her forward onto her stomach. Simultaneously she head scissored Tasanee immobilizing her. Now it was her turn, and she went to work on Nataya’s cunt pulling her body slightly back so her tongue could enter the Thai’s shaven cunt. Nataya was trapped with one leg on either side of Jessika’s face, Jessika’s long arms imprisoning her against her body and her defenceless cunt open in front of Jessika’s face.

Her tongue probed and entered, licked and fucked the 40-year-old Thai till she was cumming repeatedly, then she shifted to fingering the woman till one whimper of cumming melded into the next so that Nataya was moaning in a continuous long unbroken deep drone, her body twitching and spasming out of control. After 20 minutes Jessika released her hold and the broken Nataya rolled off her and lay prone, still twitching involuntarily on the floor.

Releasing her scissor hold on Tasanee’s head Jessika took her into a 69 position and both women went for victory. The slurping sounds as each woman licked the other could be heard throughout the room and soon the sounds as they came echoed around the small room. Soon both women were licking and simultaneously finger fucking each other’s arses and cunts. Their faces were covered by each other’s cum, their bodies covered by a sheen of sweat, their breathing loud and irregular. The sodden Baht bills Jessika had torn from Tasanee’s cunt lay in a bundle on the floor. Suddenly Tasanee broke off and tried to crawl away.

“No more, no moooooore.”

But Jessica was aroused and ruthless and grabbed the small Thai and drew 3 more orgasms from her before discarding her like a used sock. Jessika stood upright. Albeit a little bit unsteady but victorious against the two Thai whores. She looked around the room. The smile of satisfaction that spread across her face was replaced by a mask of pain as she sunk to the floor grasping her knee. Diya, the middle-aged Indian woman who was the tour guide had climbed on stage and to the cheers of the Indian men had kicked Jessika in the knee bringing her down.

Dressed in her tourist guide red uniform, obviously based on Spicejet’s Cabin crew’s outfit she slowly circled the naked writhing Jessika while taking off her blazer. Thud. One of her high heeled shoes was buried into Jessika’s thigh. Her tight white blouse was removed to show two full, 36C breasts, swinging from side to side as they were supported and exposed by a white sheer quarter-cup bra. Again, a dull thud as she kicked Jessika in the belly. The 45-year-old Diya played with each of her nipples till they were hard, erect and quivering. Thump, another kick to Jessika’s belly as she tried to crawl away. Dispassionately Diya unzipped her size 14 red, skin-tight knee-length skirt and let it drop to the floor. No panties, no G string. Just a white suspender belt and black stockings. Thud. This time Jessika recoiled holding her large tit.

Diya stepped back and stood smiling. 45 years old, 5 ft 3 115 pounds 36C 34 38, round face dominated by a prominent nose, long, thick, permed, wavy black hair, 4-inch heels, black stockings, white suspender belt and quarter bra, erect nipples and thick bush. She motioned for Jessika to get up. Jessika slowly got to her feet, but too slowly because Diya had moved in and kneed her in the belly and then as she doubled up brought the other knee into her face, smashing it into her nose and starting it bleeding. In desperation, Jessika charged but grabbed empty air and felt a hard elbow blow to her kidney. This continued similarly to a bullfighter dealing with a wounded bull as Jessika chased the elusive punishment dealing Diya.

But the stage was small, and Jessika was 5 ft 11 and long-armed, and finally one of her rushes was successful, and she wrapped the Indian in a bear hug. Locking her wrists at the base of Diya’s spine and using her height and large tits to bend the Indian backwards, she began to apply pressure to her spine. She lifted the shorter Indian off her feet and shook her like a dog with a towel that it wouldn’t let go. Only a high heel dug deep into her calf by the flailing Diya caused her to let go.

Limping she quickly reached the Indian and grabbing her by her hair and her thick black thatch, she suplexed her over her shoulder. Diya went up, over and down and lay sprawled on the floor. Jessika ran shrieking towards her intent on dive-bombing the Indian woman.

“Payback for the Black Hole of Calcutta and the Indian mutiny,” the upper class Englishwoman screamed.

In a matter of seconds, it would be over. But with the stage so close an Indian in the tour group reached out and tripped her, so she stumbled forward right into Diya’s outstretched right leg. The black high heel connected with her belly driving the wind from her, leaving her retching and gasping for breath. Diya took both of Jessika’s full tits in her hands, dug her painted nails in and ripped leaving five deep furrows on each tit.

Now not much is said about it on the net but Indian gangsters at the midrange level are very underrated. I’m talking not worldwide Mafia upper echelon or South American drug syndicates or at the other end a personal bodyguard but that 10 to 25 men group. Tough, violent and willing to ruthlessly use it on any they outnumber.

The tour group was about a dozen or so of these bully boys on a four-day bonding trip.

Several of the sun glasswearing Indian thugs, tight trousered, with open shirts displaying their hairy chests and gold chains, carried Jessika from the stage, spread her face down over a table and held her as Diya put on a strap-on and drove it home. As she mercilessly fucked the taller Jessika she raked her bleeding arse with her weapon-like nails, each of the 12 Indian men performed Bukkake on Jessika covering her face, hair and tits with their cum. Meanwhile, I decided discretion is the greater part of valour and used a coke bottle to raise a bruise on my cheekbone and pinched the inside of my arms causing bruising, evidence of my valiant struggle to protect her before being overpowered against the 12 Indians.

It took a couple of days and some money spent at the Ownly Pusssy Club, but I had the information I needed. I hesitated outside Jessika’s room in the Pathumwan Princess Hotel, located in the popular MBK Shopping and Office Complex, in the heart of financial, commercial and shopping areas of Bangkok. But I was 99% sure she had bought my story of trying to defend her against the catfight beating and rape by Diya, and subsequent bukkake by her 12 Indian tour group.

I thought of Diya using her thick dildo on Jessika as the 12 Indians emptied their loads into her face and how I had used a coke bottle on my face, pinched bruises into my arms and bit my lip, all evidence of my valiant defence before the weight of numbers beat me. And the piece de resistance, spitting out a sliver of peanut which in the dark of The Ownly Pusssy Club looked like a sliver of a tooth. What more could one man do? Yes, I was sure she believed, plus I had good news for her in her quest for revenge.

I went in and saw the powerful 5 ft 11, 160 lbs, auburn-haired, 36C+, 25, 36, young-looking, 49-year-old dominant lesbian sitting on the edge of the sofa, her strong thighs circling a kneeling Thai woman’s head. Her body rocked with pleasure as the kneeling Thai, her hands tied behind her back, ate the Englishwoman steaming hot twat. Christ, I thought, I had forgotten about Jessika’s fight with a pro-Thai woman Muay Thai boxer, but it was obvious from their respective positions she had won.

As she continued to writhe in ecstasy, I thought about my 49-year-old friend. A total lesbian, her full name was Jessika Thornton-Smythe and when her mother Lady Phillipa died, she became Lady Jessika Thornton-Smythe. A sole child she had a privileged, aristocratic upbringing financed by the family estates in Norfolk. She was educated in London at the exclusive girls-only Queen’s Gate School in South Kensington and then attended Mon Fertile finishing school in Switzerland. At school, she had been raped by the year 12 prefects, a traditional welcoming, but by the end of the year had fucked all of them individually till they cried for mercy. One of the prefects she gained her revenge on was Camilla Shand better known now as Camilla Parker-Bowles and Jessika’s first personal bitch was Camilla’s younger sister Annabel.

As she grew older, she became an expert horsewoman and skier narrowly missing out on English selection in both, though many people claim that she was not selected because she would not fuck the male selection board. Anyway, this was the grounding for her exceptional leg and midsection strength and the springboard for her obsession with the gym. The debutante season for the rich and idle titled upper class gave her further education in dominating other women. Every man that called her a lez that season received a tape of Jessika fucking/humiliating his girlfriend.

Given her lesbianism, her athleticism and her delight in domination she became involved in the underground sex and catfight circuits taking on tough West Indian immigrants, working-class Glaswegians, and unemployed Yorkshire and Lancastrian women. For someone who spoke with a plumb in her mouth like Princess Anne or the Queen and called her Mum “mother” and used words like “golly” and “spiffling good show,” she was capable of slumming and fighting as dirty as any of the underprivileged. Success led to Europe; the Muslim ghettos in France and Germany, and the influx of willing girls from former Soviet-controlled countries such as Poland, East Germany and Romania.

Her private affairs never lasted due to the frequency with which she needed sex and her dominance. A Masochist was no use to her because she needed to make her women do something against their will, not because they enjoyed being dominated. And now I had introduced her to Asia.

Her legs tightened around the frantically licking the Thai woman’s head as she screamed her pleasure. As much as I wanted to watch I had to interrupt. “I’ve found Diya’s lover. She’s been on a holiday, and she’s just flown in and she’s at the Sofitel Silom Hotel.” That news was so important that the Thai boxer was spared Jessika’s final fucking and domination in the rush to get to the Silom Rd 4-star hotel.

Now where were we? Ah, yes, Jessika was masquerading as a kickboxing bag as the 35-year-old Indian, Aniya, turned Jessika’s belly red.

After 7 kicks Jessika’s belly was blotched with red patches and she was struggling to breathe, but somehow, she finally managed to wriggle one hand free from the tank top handcuffs and pried Aniya’s grip away from her mauled and scratched tits. Quickly she encircled the smaller Indian with her arms and squeezed her in a bear hug. Lifting the shorter Indian off her feet, she jerked her bear hug tighter, using her height advantage and large breasts to force Aniya’s spine into a backward U shape. The Indian wailed in pain as Jessika tightened her bear hug. Suddenly Jessika released her grip with a squeal of anguish. Aniya had managed to rake her high heel down Jessika’s shin, drawing blood. Jessika hadn’t learnt from The Ownly Pussy.

Both stood apart. Aniya looked warily at the Englishwoman and gingerly felt her spine, while Jessika with her victory taken from her now felt the pain from her throbbing guts which had taken the brutal kicks earlier and her bruised tits. The fight resumed pitting Jessika’s strength against the kicks of the mobile Indian. From long range, Aniya feinted and struck using both spinning round kicks and mule kicks where she tried to drive her high-heeled shoes into Jessika. Jessika for her part tried to take the blows on her arms and endeavoured to get close to use her greater strength.

Both had chances: Aniya landed a kick to Jessika’s hamstring bringing her to one knee and the finishing kick to the face just missed, grazing and causing blood to flow from her ear. Jessika managed to again wrap Aniya into a bear hug, but this time Aniya was able to squeeze Jessika’s bruised, scratched tit, and explode a knee into Jessika’s cunt before Jessika could apply submission-level pressure to the Indian tour guide.

The smaller Indian was quickly all over her as Jessika collapsed to the ground, straddling and pinning her, smiling as her talons again raked and dug into the larger Englishwoman’s tits. Suddenly Jessika’s heels started drumming on the ground. Aniya had reached behind her sitting body to use her fingers on Jessika’s cunt. She was on top revelling in the pain she was dishing out with one hand on Jessika’s tits and the other on twat. She bent forward to hiss her triumph and reeled backwards from the Liverpool kiss that Jessika’s forehead had landed on her face.

The action became so furious and so fast it was hard to follow as kicks and punches were thrown by the Indian only to be dodged by my friend as she attempted to grapple in close. Suddenly the whole character of the fight was transformed when Jessika changed tactics, dropped to a stoop and kicked straight forward, heel slamming like a hammer into Aniya’s sweat-covered belly, knocking the wind out of her, and bowling the Indian woman onto her back. Rolling even as she landed on the floor, she wasn’t fast enough to prevent Jessika from straddling the small of her back, wrapping her arms around Aniya’s throat, and brutally wrenching her head counterclockwise. But Aniya reached back and grabbed Jessika’s mauled tit with the pain cutting off Jessika’s head twisting of Aniya just short of submission.

Arching her back and thrusting up onto her knees, Aniya, grabbed Jessika’s forearms, and suddenly curled forward, somehow incredibly throwing the larger English woman over her shoulders onto the floor with a sickening crashing splat. But Jessika, face twisted with fury, hurtled forward, even as she was rising to her knees, and the force of her impact into the lighter Indian woman’s body drove both upwards, tits and bellies smashed together, faces mirrored masks of wild-eyed hate, blood squirting from their nostrils, and mixing and flowing copiously along with the saliva from their mouths.

Aniya’s knee rocketed up into Jessika’s cunt, lifting the screaming woman to her tiptoes, yet Jessika stood her ground, and, elbows flared out, pressed the heels of her hands together on Aniya’s temples, her palms on her cheeks and her fingers at Aniya’s throat. The Indian screamed as the crushing pressure was applied, vice-like to her head. She grabbed Jessika’s wrists but could not break the grip. Tighter and tighter, Jessika squeezed using her long fingers on the carotid artery until Aniya slumped into unconsciousness.

Aniya came to to find herself bound kneeling on the bed, so her breasts were touching the mattress and her arse stuck up in the air. Seeing she had come to the now naked Jessika slid onto the bed, so Aniya’s face now lay in her already wet slit.

“Lick it bitch,” she commanded, and Aniya’s lack of haste was met by a kidney punch that soon had the Indian tour guide eating my friend’s waiting cunt. Already moaning with pleasure Jessika reached around and started playing with Aniya’s slit and soon had the Indian woman moving her wet slit against her fingers. With her other hand, Jessika started to give me a hand job and soon had me quivering hard.

“Now slut, you going to get filled by a man’s cock for the first time in your life. Enjoy it.” Jessika gloated as she motioned me behind Aniya. Aniya screamed in panic as she saw the tip of my cock head reach the oyster between her legs and felt it slowly part her delicate lips. Then, wailing and screaming, she gyrated her hips about frantically as my cock pushed its way deeper and deeper inside the lubricated tunnel that Jessika had created.

At first, the going was very hard. The Indian put up an enormous amount of resistance, but my hard cock pushed its way slowly past her defiant muscles. Her screams of panic were deafening as I moved my way deeper. She was so tight, so tender, and so sensitive. I looked down and watched as my throbbing organ pushed its way, like a piston, toward its target, sinking deeper and deeper into her tiny cunt that had never received a male cock.

“UUUGH! AHHGGHH!! GET IT OUT! GET IT ... NNNGGGUUGGH!!”

Aniya’s hips thrust about wildly as my fuck rod continued its agonizing journey. Every inch was a battle, every millimetre another erotic wave of pleasure to me. Her cunt leaked like a broken faucet as my rod made its way toward her womb, disappearing bit by bit inside the Indian.

“UUUUGHH! Got to get free ... before I ... Can’t let him take ME!” she screamed in desperation. But then Jessika started on Aniya’s clit, teasing it and playing with it as I completed my slow entry. She then began to pant and moan deeply as my hips finally pressed against her buttocks. I had finally penetrated her all the way and now lay over her, my hips slowly pumping my cock in and out of her bound, defenceless body, and as Jessika continued her arousal of the defenceless Indian Aniya wiggled continuously.

“UUGH! God this bitch is tight ... so ... fucking ... TIGHT!.” I gasped as the Indian woman’s vagina squeezed down hard on my rod. “God, she’s so ... ugghghn!”