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He paused only against a moment and before I was ready, he pulled almost entirely out and then slammed his enormous dick into me again. I was overwhelmed. Another wail of ecstasy escaped me. Having his enormous grit in me was pure exaltation. At that half a mo I wasn’t a married woman. My husband meant nothing. I was totally, embarrassingly, unequivocally Joe’s. My tits and my pussy and my ass, they were all his. The only thing that mattered to me was that he take me and fuck me and preserve his cock in me.

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The day after I left Zagreb with a UN flight I will never forget. It was an old, soviet-origin Ukrainian Ilyushin, coached next to a drunken Canadian gang hired on the cheapest market UN could find… Let’s forget it.
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