The torture. Pt3
Zafira smothered Vincent’s face into her hungry
p---y.
He s----d on her swollen button and drank of her, unable to breathe, the sweet taste and smell drove him wild.
He all but forgot the crisis at hand.
Her hands held him mercilessly in place, not allowing him to draw a single breath.
Dizziness set in, and just as he was about to pass
out, Zafira released him.
He gasped greedily for air, his face covered in her hellish juices.
“You’re not done!” Zafira scolded.
Taking the whip between her legs, she pulled
on it from over her shoulder, winching Vincent’s
face back to her p---y.
“Suck my p---y! No air until you make me c-m!” she said,
The whip choked the remaining life from Vincent as
he suckled Zafira’s c--t with a newfound desperation.
Her flavorful nectar melded with his strangled anoxia, an irresistible appetizer.
He inserted fingers into her, hoping the added
stimulation would send her over the edge before
his lungs gave out.