entered her ass sharply, without warning, for the entire length. He groaned with pleasure - so tightly the muscles of her untouched ass were wrapped around his cock. For a second, he froze inside her, enjoying the sensation, and then ... And then the real torture began.

She tried to escape, but the Albanian wound her hair on his arm and pressed tightly to the bed, mocking her ass so that tears streamed from her eyes. He raped her with ecstasy, without stopping; it seemed to her, it lasted forever. At first, she screamed, moaned, called for help ... Now, pressed to bed, she silently cried and looked at Daimon.

He watched her all the time, sometimes smiling, and in the half-light of the room the dimples were especially noticeable.

- Honey, well, well, so what?, - Angelo's mocking voice was heard from behind. - What are you not ending? I do not like?

She was silent, dreaming only of when it would end. She was not even scared: what she was most afraid of had already happened. It could not have been worse.

Angelo said something to Daimon in Albanian. He slowly left the room. A minute later, he returned with an empty beer bottle and silently handed it to Angelo, looking at Amal with an incomprehensible expression: either tenderness or pity. Realizing what might happen now, she huddled in vain attempts to avoid new bullying, and Daimon, who had returned to his observation post against the wall, sat down next to the bed and firmly pressed her hands to the white linen bed. His face was now some twenty centimeters from her, and he looked entranced in her eyes, summed up by the flow of tears from the ink. Angelo laughed:

- Stop it, stop it, you slut. We want you to feel good too.

With these words, he (admittedly, more carefully than she had expected) thrust the neck of the bottle into her crotch. She screamed, though she decided that she would not make a sound, because Angelo only screamed at her. So it happened this time. He began to gradually accelerate the pace, fucking her in the ass with his stone dick, and in her pussy - with a bottle, which he had already driven, not embarrassed, to half.

“Come on, come on,” he whispered hoarsely, “come on, come on, come on, bitch, stop!” He pulled her at a frantic pace, so that she no longer understood anything; pain, pleasure, heat, tremors, Angelo's dick in her ass, Daimon’s arms pressing her to the bed, cool slippery bottles inside her, gray beautiful eyes, someone pulling her hair, and again heat, heat, fire, waves ...

She finished. Angelo finished a second later: she felt something hot splattered in her ass.

Angelo took out his limp penis from her, slapped his palm on the already battered priest, and without even bothering to take the bottle out of it, went into another room to dress. A few minutes later, Amal heard the front door slam. He left.

Daimon let her hands off, gently, slowly took out a bottle from it and quietly put it on the floor nearby. She was too deeply shocked by what had happened, and did not even change her position: she was standing, although, rather, she lay on the bed with cancer, with her legs apart. Daimon gently turned her back, put a pillow under his head. He sat down at her feet, having been silent for a few seconds, then gently took her ankles and spread her legs. Everything was wet and red with excitement. He began to cover her left leg with kisses: first fingers, shin, knee, thigh, and finally, he began to gently kiss her there, just kiss - as if he had kissed her on the lips. He licked for a long time, diligently, so that the calm pleasure began to spread her body, replacing the pulsating shock in the mind and the pain in the rear opening.

Feeling that she had calmed down, he lay down on her, going into her swollen, still oozing crack slowly and carefully, and began to move slowly inside her. He stroked her disheveled hair, looked into her eyes, sometimes pressing his cool lips to her sweat-covered forehead.

“Forgive me, honey,” he whispered in her ear, “sorry, sweet.” But I love you.

His tongue dived into her mouth, and she closed her eyes and replied: the kiss was long, sweet, tender, delightful. She felt him finish in her.

Daimon kissed her hands and lay down on her back. She went to the bathroom, feeling the sperm from two men running down her legs, pouring out of two holes. Standing under the shower, she seemed to hear the door slam. He left? She was still in shock and could not properly think. Kara was right: Daimon psycho. She was just wiping herself with a towel when he knocked gently on the door:

- Favorite ... are you coming soon?

“Yes,” she noted to her surprise that her voice sounded calm and confident. In the end, things could be much worse.

- Good. Hurry up. Here, Angelo and a few guys, we are waiting for you. By the way, do you like red wine?

Amal felt like everything inside was broken. In the head with distant silver bells the voice of the waitress rang: "No, dear ...".