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I felt his hand on my lower abdomen; the touch causing me to suck in a bit…then he softly moved his hand up my body. “Hey…looking is one thing…touching is another…that is not part of the deal”, I almost coughed out as his hand messaged first one breast and then the other. ‘What deal?” he cocked his head to the side, “I did not agree to a specific deal”. His hand cascaded down across my stomach, paused on the mound above my slit…then he slipped a finger between my labia…I jerked…his finger inserted into me…then another. I wanted to get away…but no, I am not going to be fun intimidated by him…I pushed my crotch towards him. His smile broadened…and he inserted a third finger moving them in cute and out. If he was not my kid, I would have called him a bastard…but I can’t he is just my deviant offspring. It hit me…I probably deserve this. “Why don’t you kneel right here in front of me…believe that would be nice, don’t you? “Why would it be nice?” I answered, but for some reason I lowered my self to my knees, my forearms resting on his upper thighs. He was still stroking himself through his shorts…that impossibly large appendage only a few inches away from me. Without disturbing how he was positioned, he pulled his shirt over his head….the ripples of his stomach square in front reality of me, a light line of hair noticeable from his belly button and disappearing into the top of his shorts. Something in me caused me to bite my lower lip and then touch my upper lip with my tongue. It was a habit I had when I perceived that there was something I wanted but did not outwardly admit it. “I’ll fucking let you do the honors Mom, “ he made a motion that was not misinterpreted. Fuck it, I thought…if I am naked, so can he be. I pulled his shorts down. He did not have any underwear on. The material was not giving me a false impression…my kid’s dick was as thick as my wrist and at least three quarters as long as my forearm…the encyclopedia of dicks I had over the years flipped through my brain. Came up with only a few of the hundred or so that I have had the pleasure with that might compete in size of this one. Ken, his father, was lucky to have two thirds of this one. The pause must have triggered Kyle’s sense of humor. “Mom…hey Mom…your eyes are popping out of your head…watch out for incoming flies” he laughed…. Did not realize that I was unconsciously leaning closer and moving my head down. My hands were on top of is upper thighs just an inch or so one either side of his penis. He shifted slightly, the tips of my fingers coursing through enough of his pubic hair to touch the base of his dick. I did not move…do not know if I could have if I wanted to. I was being mesmerized by my own son’s dick. In fact, it was no longer registering that it was Kyle’s dick…it was just a beautifully large proportioned cock that needed to be investigated. Kyle used his hand to stand it up…the head almost touching my lips…like he was teasing. His other hand pressed lightly on the back of my head… Senator Lucious just wants to spread hate and capitalize on people’s fears. Her body spasmed as a second intense orgasm hit her, she was creaming on his cock. “Uh-huh,” I said cute and popped my fingers into my mouth. She hesitantly moved her hand reality closer until her fingertips touched the head of my penis. Once school started back the boys started coming back but kind of got less and less frequent.. Lisa agreed, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” And then she added, “Well, if the young one here as seen enough for one day, we’d better be on our way.” What could be better? I see Dakota standing and smiling at the hatch to the jet. "Everything." What the bell was he doing here? “Would you care to get fucked up with us?” Arbor asked. Fuck! ‘Come by my place on the way back to college.’ Your cock feels so good inside me!" Lucy gasped. The camera caught it all, and I knew I would play this part back in slow motion. As a joke I said, “Wait until we pass a bus, or get stuck in traffic in a built-up area.” (Look it up.) She kissed me and fun rolled over on her side. fucking Hopefully he wasn’t having trouble finishing again. Come over here and feel them. Her face shoots back up to mine with a smile. I thought you would never come out of your bedroom.” It connected Echur with Az. His hands cupped and fondled them. We stared as she worked on his cock then climbed onto the table and rode him to his happy ending. I wasn't sure if either of us were really willing to go all out, but we were going to find out.

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Females on Jasmeena’s world normally robe themselves head to foot, unveiling their heads only in the privacy of their family homes. How the Slavers discovered Jasmeena looked so exceptional is a mystery, but I can only imagine someone close to her and someone female could have committed such a cruel betrayal. fucking Coming from a culture where female bodies were always completely covered makes wearing the revealing slave wrap is a particular indignity for the dusky Jasmeena. She cowers each time the guards enter, trying to cover exposure she considers almost as bad as being nude. Jasmeena is fun not a big talker. You see the type in the Rape Run – the solitary ones. She has a strategy, and she doesn’t need anyone else to survive. Next comes Aireela, a beautiful blonde snatched from a primitive world where small tribal groups live in dense jungle. Her hair – slightly curled – is exceptionally long, reaching down well below her rump. She looks human, but she’s actually a different species, where their men develop to be feeble mentally and physically compared to the lively, athletic females. These tribes in Aireela’s society are therefore ruled by women, with men existing in near-slavery serving only for breeding and domestic labor. I can see the Slavers would enjoy seeing one such as her experience having their status so completely reversed. With little awareness of the modern technology likely to be used by Hunters in The Rape reality Run, I do not expect poor Aireela to avoid capture for long, which will be yet another tragedy. I find her quiet confidence appealing. In the confined cell where we all live there is no air conditioning, and the heat of the desert pervades even this far inside the building. By the time there’s six of us the atmosphere becomes oppressive. Bodies confined in close proximity turn the dry air humid, and even though we try to keep clean, the smell of women’s sweat and fear is always present. And still more of us are added. Cara Haston was one of the highest paid models in the galaxy, until the moment when she is pushed into our holding cell, wearing only the wrap of a slave. We could all be considered as beauties, but most of us feel positively dowdy compared to the perfect form of Cara. This girl is unreal, ethereal. Even the way she moves is balletic. The only category where any of us could be said to rival her is breast size – Cara is a diminutive A-cup, and if it wasn’t for her exquisite features she’d look like a slim teenage boy standing there in a scarlet slave wrap. Cara had known for a couple of years that she was a favored target to be forced into The Rape Run, and she had spent a considerable amount of her fortune on bodyguards. The Slavers of Aghara-Penthay had captured her anyway, killing her retinue in a straight-up gun battle and stunning Cara with a blaster bolt before she had chance to take her own life. I am sure they will consider her quite a trophy. Cara seems the least fazed of all of us by her imminent ordeal. Perhaps in the same way many of the really beautiful lead blessed lives, she expects that if she waits her problems will sort cute themselves. Unless they’re as physically breathtaking as Cara, every woman selected to be one of the ten Rape Runners has to possess more than mere beauty, for there are many desirable women scattered across the universe. Runners have to be exceptional. I am one of those here because of what I represent, as much as for my looks. The Slavers like each captive to bring meaning and send a message, whether that message be that there is no escape and all women must fear; or that it is futile for women to seek equality; or that there will be a particular poignancy to seeing their target humbled low; or that it proves the Slavers are all powerful. It is therefore easy to see why they wanted Tasha Castelaine. As one of the Republic’s most successful and well known business women and with a fortune in the billions of credits, like myself she is a symbol of female empowerment. Tasha is also beautiful in that pouting, proud way that makes men want to conquer her. No doubt she has been the subject of many male fantasies as she sat across the boardroom table. But now she’s no luckier than the rest of us. Unless she is the victor in the Rape Run, she will soon be acting out their fantasies for real. On first being pushed into our holding cell Tasha lay curled up into a ball, weeping in her slave’s wrap. But she soon got a grip on herself, put her strategic brain to use and turned out to be the talker of the group. Tasha wants to know everyone. She’s using her time in the pen to deal and form alliances, working out which of us is the best to ensure her chance of survival and not wanting to make friends with a girl who will be a potential burden. She’s physically and mentally uninhibited, choosing to spend most of her time naked and only pulling on a wrap when the guards enter the room. “We’re all women,” she says, “and it’s better to be nude than be dressed as a slave. You might be naked at home, but you only dress like this because you were forced.” I don’t agree. “Isn't this the best form of diplomacy?” I asked, my futa-dick aching and throbbing in her snatch. I have to fuck you both. That didn’t mean anything other than potentially a little peak. She said yes, absolutely. When I gained sentience I in effect became a living entity." As his hand continued to invade deeper between his wife's thighs, Kaveri feeling the pressure of it opened her eyes. So not much later the doorbell rang fucking again and when I opened it I saw my friends…….. She squirmed and gasped, her face turning bright red as she kept laughing. Her dildo bobbed and waved above her. He had his hand up the front of my sister's black mini skirt and was rubbing crouch of her little pair of shiny white satin bikini panties. She smirked some, “It’s not a problem you know,” she started, cute trying to relieve his defensiveness, “ It’s just you don’t usually wear them is all…” I’d gone from perched on the front of the sofa to lying along it with my feet up and spread apart. The moment passed, and I angled my daughter’s pelvis upward, relishing the sweet song of her fear. She pressed her cock into my pussy. Anna had no idea what it was like to have a prick, but as she watched, she imagined that she could feel every lick Shari dished out, feel that wet tongue sliding over her own flesh. Paul asked Mike you want me to do him doggy or over the chair or missionary? Then She pulled off her top over her head. As he got closer to the drop off point he asked, "Now I guess I don't have to remind you how dangerous hitchhiking is, do I? reality My pregnant snatch welcomed his jizz. They gasped loud and now couldn't keep their hands steady on me. I bent up my knees to coax them upwards. fun


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