I concentrated on the revolting feeling of his spit sliding into me. But he knows of no better way to assert his dominance than forcing me to accept an act that we both know I loathe. His spit slowly running from its landing spot, down to my still gaping anus, and into me. I clutched the revolting pillow tighter to my face as I heard him spit, and felt it land on my ass. I gagged as I heard him clear his throat. I was here for his pleasure, and he knew exactly how to remind me of that. I loved that no matter what I wanted, this was his show. Forget the risk to me, how could I risk her like this? But damn, I loved the feeling so much. I had told him over and over again not to do it. I grimaced into the pillow as I felt him pull all the way out of me. God, I hope this motel cleans their sheets better than the rest of the decrepit room. I inhaled deeply, smelling the reek of the pillow as he pulled out of me. How much sweat, spit, and who knew what else was in this pillow. I tried not to think about how many people had had similar experiences with this pillow. The cheap fabric scratching my face as he pushed me deeper into it with every thrust. Then, slamming the entire length of his cock into me until I could hear his hips slap against mine and feel his pubes tickling me. Pulling out until just the head was left in my ass. My mind overloading with pleasure as his cock slammed into me. I moaned as my face slammed into the pillow.
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