So now I’m two levels into Initiation in Phi Kappa Omega. Level Three awaits me with all its deep and salacious delights.
Max Devlin is driving us through the city. We’re in his Porsche 911 and it purrs like a very loud demon down the streets. I’m seated beside him. I can well see and admire his finely cut profile, as beautiful as any Michelangelo statue’s. His blond hair falls prettily across his wide brow, and his arm muscles bulge through the tight blue T-shirt he is wearing.
“Master,” I say timidly, “where are we going?”
He turns his marvelous face to me and grins. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
I finger the red and black lace corset I’m wearing. It’s cinched at the waist and so tight that I can hardly breathe. It’s made of whalebone, and flares upward into twin half-brassiere cups that lift my breasts invitingly to the gaze. My tits are pressed in from both sides so that my cleavage is a deep valley. My melons are huge and rounded, much larger and firmer than they usually are.
The corset does not offer much concealment. The bra cups are made from soft black tulle and layered into rose petals. With every breath I take, my chest rises and falls . . . and the tops of my large, red nipples peek out. The contrast between my red areolas and the black tulle is stark and enticing.
Below my waist, I’m not wearing a skirt. Devlin has made me don a G-string. It’s made out of an interlinked series of thin golden chains. It grasps my hips snugly as it runs down in two skeins, looping just outside my labia to join once again at the back. A pretty scarab the size of a walnut decorates the shaven area just above my clitoris.
The G-string is completely crotch-less. Below the scarab, the soft red lips of my pussy gapes like an open mouth. Like the corset, the G-string is meant to draw immediate attention to my intimate parts, not conceal them.
Devlin stops at a red light. Beside me, a weather-beaten truck pulls up to a halt. The Porsche is much lower than the truck, and after a moment, the bearded blue collar driver swivels his head to look through my window.
His eyes bulge.
Devlin reaches over to pull the tulle off my right breast, exposing my pointed nipple. The truck driver winds his window down quickly.
“Hey, baby!” A wolf whistle. “Whatcha got there?”
Devlin pinches and plumps my nipple so that it swells and perks up. I’m flushed with embarrassment. I involuntarily close my legs.
The truck driver pokes his head out of the window. He doesn’t take his eyes off my teats. For his benefit, Devlin winds down my window and pulls away the covering of my left breast. Both my tits are now exposed to the trucker’s gaze. A hot wind trails through my open window and lifts my mahogany tresses.
“Master, please,” I whimper.
Devlin does so enjoy humiliating me in public.
“Oh baby, baby,” the truck driver catcalls. His large hand falls out of the window and begins to grope the air. I can imagine his callused palms on my tits, pinching my nipples and squeezing them so that they turn a bright red.
The light turns green and Devlin hits the gas. The Porsche screeches, leaving the dazzled trucker behind. Devlin throws back his handsome head and laughs heartily. He continues to put the car into its tracks, tires squealing all the way.
After a while, with one hand on the wheel and his eyes on the road, he unzips the fly of his jeans. He’s not wearing anything underneath. His wiry golden pubic hair explodes in a tuft.
“Take my penis out,” he orders.
My heart thudding, I tease Devlin’s hard, eight-inch cock out with my left hand. It stands up immediately like a lever sprung loose. It’s so long that its purple head strikes the bottom of the wheel.
“Go on. Suck it.”
I lean sideways, twisting my body uncomfortably on the leather seat. The car is an automatic, and the gear is on ‘drive’. I grab the cock’s shaft.
“No. I want you on your knees, bitch. Legs apart and ass held high to the window so that everyone passing outside can see your pussy.”
Clambering over the seat so that I’m on all fours, I sway precariously with the acceleration of the car. My buttocks are jutted high, as Devlin demands. If anyone were to look through my window, they would see my firm, plump ass, lined only by the golden chains of my G-string, and the lower swell of my moist labia. They would probably even see the very obvious, oval-shaped slit of my flowering vaginal hole.
Perfectly positioned, although I have to grip the seats and the handbrake for leverage, I dip my head to Devlin’s large cock. Encircling the enormous tip with my lips, I take it into my mouth. My cheek muscles have to strain to properly surround the shaft. I begin to suck at the cock insistently, working my jaw muscles to give it maximum grip.
“Deeper.” Devlin pushes my head down.
I struggle to take more of it. The fat head of his cock tickles the back of my throat, but I’m experienced enough now to swallow a considerable length of it.
“More,” Devlin commands.
I inch more of it down my throat, ignoring my gag reflex. I wonder how much of the car Devlin can control in this state, but his right thigh flexes against my throat and upper chest as he floors the gas pedal.
“Work it up and down.”
I begin to slide my mouth back and forth the shaft of his cock, tasting the smooth and salty texture of it.
“Lick it. Nibble it.”
I hasten to comply. Taking the saliva-slicked cock out of my mouth, I run my tongue over the head, flicking it deftly around its grooves and the tiny aperture at the tip. I curl my tongue along its undersides and down the long shaft, exploring the thick vein that bulges on the top. Nipping the rough skin gently with my teeth, I make like I’m eating an ear of corn.
Devlin allows me no respite. We travel for a good fifteen or twenty minutes like this, with me on my knees like a dog and his long, thick cock in my mouth. Finally, we pull up somewhere. The car engine slows to a purr. The foliage above us throws leafy shadows onto our bodies.
I raise my head.
“Did I tell you to stop?” He pushes my head down onto his cock again. “Now suck it again, deep. Slide it up and down your mouth. Let it fuck your throat.”
I struggle to obey. I pump the shaft of the cock with my cheek muscles – which ache from being worked for so long – opening and closing my lips around its considerable girth like a sea anemone. Devlin depresses a button and his window slides down.
“Good morning, sir,” says a voice.
Once again, I try to look up but Devlin forces my head down. The voice is above me, which suggests that the speaker is standing at the window and looking down at my bobbing head.
“Good morning, Teddy. I’m stopping by to use the garden. Has my father been around?”
“He hasn’t been here for a month, Master Devlin, and neither has your mother.”
“Fine by me. Are you going to open the gates to let me in or what?”
I continue to suck. The only view proffered to me is Devlin’s blond pubic hair and open fly of his jeans.
“Your father has stipulated new . . . rules, sir. I would have to personally body search all visitors to the manor.”
A curl of delicious dread unspools in my tummy.
Devlin pauses. Then he says, “That’s fine by me too. This is Gina, Gia, whoever.”
I wonder if I’m allowed to raise my head now.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I will have to do the body search right here, outside the gates.”
Another long silence.
Devlin abruptly kills the engine. “All right, Gia. This is your lucky day. Get up from your knees and go outside.”
I finally crane my neck to see a young man in a dark blue uniform. He looks like a valet. He smiles at me despite my tousled mahogany hair and my swollen lips.
“Step right outside, Miss.”
I clamber to let myself out of the car. We’re parked outside a pair of ornate bronze gates attached to stone pillars carved in the shape of gryphons. At one side is a sentry box. Trees flourish in abundance all around us.
I step out in my three-inch red heels as Teddy comes over to my side. Devlin pulls himself languorously out of his seat. He makes no attempt to zip back up his fly. His still semi-erect cock and balls dangle out like a wobbling package.
Teddy shuts the Porsche door behind me. “Lean against the car, Miss.”
I do, arms pressed to the hot metal. With a twinkle in his eye, Teddy grabs my breasts. He immediately unfolds the petals of the bra cups to fully expose my nipples and areola. He gropes my breasts, lifting and weighing them as though they contain contraband. He pats the undersides of the wire rim and runs his palms down the line of my corset.
“What do you think you hope to find in there, Teddy?” Devlin drawls.
“You never know, sir.” Teddy looks into my eyes as he gives my right nipple one more squeeze. “You have very nice tits, Miss.”
“Uh, thank you,” I say.
Teddy kneels before me. “Open your legs, Miss.”
I grind my buttocks against the car and stand with my thighs apart. Teddy peels back both the lips of my pussy and runs his fingers down their sensitive inner grooves. I shudder involuntarily.
“What a beautiful cunt you have, Miss, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
He sticks three fingers into my vagina and does a full sweep.
Beside me, Devlin is grinning. “Is that necessary, Teddy?”
Teddy turns me so that my stomach is slammed against the car. He parts my buttocks and dives into my asshole without warning.
I cry out.
“Just following orders, sir.”
Teddy’s fingers are deep and rough inside my anus. He inserts them as deep as he can, and then pulls them out. “Lovely sphincter you have, Miss. Feels like a sausage tight ring.”
He turns to face Devlin. His face is stolid. “I’m afraid I’ll have to search you too, sir. Your father’s orders.”
Devlin’s face turns a beet red. “What?”
“I’m not allowed to let you in otherwise, sir,” Teddy apologizes.
“It’s the house rules, sir. Your father pointedly said that they included you.”
I look from Teddy to Devlin, amazed.
Muttering beneath his breath, Devlin turns his cock to the car and drops his pants. Teddy pushes his washboard stomach against the door and spreads his ass cheeks. Devlin’s buttocks are firm and muscled, and they clench as Teddy inserts his fingers into Devlin’s asshole.
“If I may say so, sir, your sphincter is just as lovely and tight as your lady friend’s here.”
When Teddy has finished exploring Devlin’s rectum, he walks back to the sentry box. The gates creak open. Devlin picks up his pants and throws them into the Porsche. Grumbling, he walks back to the driver’s seat, his cock and balls bouncing.
Once we’re seated in the car again, Teddy waves us in.
“Have a good day, sir.”
“Fuck you,” Devlin says with the finger sign, and rolls up his window.
The grounds are immense. I eye everything – from the well-trimmed rhododendron shrubbery to the carefully pruned rose bushes – in amazement and delight. “Is this your house, master?”
“One of my father’s many country homes.”
If there’s a suggested manor in there, Devlin ignores it. He drives us instead to a tangle of trees and bushes. He stops the car.
“Step out,” he orders.
My heels dig into the lush, loamy soil. The trees grow in marvelous profusion around us and on the ground, flowers peek their pink and purple heads out. Dandelion heads wave in the slight breeze. Everything smells of fertility and green leafy plants.
I follow Devlin to a large, gnarled tree that sits in a small clearing. Two leather slings trail close to the tree bark from a pair of low-lying branches overhead. They are positioned several feet apart. I notice the ratcheted and buckled loops at their ends. On a branch directly above my head are two shorter and higher-placed restraints. The slings are all loped around the branches like pulleys, with their far ends tethered to the other side of the tree.
My knees turn to jelly. I think I know what Devlin is about to do to me. A shudder starts from deep within me and spreads down my legs.
Grinning, Devlin grabs a protuberant outcrop in the middle of the bark. It’s a very knobbed piece of wood, about four inches long and one-and-the-half inches in diameter. It is shaped like a lifted finger. It juts out from the tree like a small Saguaro cactus stem.
“Come here, Gia.”
In bewilderment, I trot over to the woody piece. It is level to my stomach.
“Touch it. Feel it.”
I curl my fist around the stem, feeling its rough whorls and ridges. Apprehension creeps into every pore of my body. Devlin explores my ass as I do so, pinching my cheeks and prodding the soft flesh.
“Now stand against the tree and raise your hands above your head.”
The fear rises to my throat as I obey. The woody knob presses against the small of my back like the barrel of a gun. From behind, Devlin lowers the topmost restraints. Then he slips my wrists through the loops and secures them snugly with the ratchets. When he finishes, my arms are pulled so tightly above my head that I’m almost standing on tiptoe.
I whimper softly.
“Hush, now, hush.”
He strokes my breasts as he lifts my right leg and posits my ankle into the loop of the right sling. Once again, he secures it tightly. I’m in a very awkward position, with my right leg thrust high up and my left leg still dangling down, pulled by gravity. My angled pussy is wide open and very moist.
Devlin repeats this with my left leg into the opposing sling, so that when he is finished, I’m securely fastened to the tree, with both my legs hiked up in a ‘V’ formation above me. The bonds are tight and uncomfortable.
My entire vagina and asshole area are cruelly displayed. If I look down, I can see my very prominent pink labia and my quivering clit just above the gaping black hole of my pussy.
But Devlin is not finished with me.
He goes to the back of the tree and begins to further play with my bonds. He hauls the ones securing my wrists up so that I am lifted even higher. Then he comes to my front. My open pussy is at the level of his extremely hard cock.
“Now easy does it, baby.”
He grabs hold of both my buttocks and the undersides of my thighs. The muscles on his arms and shoulders bulging, he lifts me up by the hips and posits my asshole – which is rapidly contracting and puckering from my obvious distress – above the woody stem of the tree.
“Master,” I cry out pleadingly, “no.”
Devlin lowers my anus to the woody outcrop. I cry as the unrelenting piece of wood spears me. It immediately expands my rectum to accommodate its uncomfortable texture and ridges. I moan and writhe, but this only serves to grate its rough surface against the tender flesh of my asshole.
Devlin adjusts my leg restraints. Then he steps back and observes me with satisfaction. My features are flushed from humiliation and my pussy hole is shivering from the uncontrolled ministrations of my rectal muscles over the woody stem.
“Master, please don’t do this to me,” I beg softly.
He ignores me. Instead, he leans close to me, one hand against the bark of the tree and the other stroking my swollen labia and clit.
“See how wet and open you are?” he whispers. He runs his finger around the rim of my asshole, stretched and brutally penetrated by the wicked knob of wood. Grinning, he strokes the glistening, very wet and fragile piece of skin between my vulva and anus, feeling the hard ridges of the wood beneath the skin. He dips two fingers into my vagina and tries to prod the wood from inside.
“Nice and tight,” he says, breathing heavily.
My frightened eyes regard his very erect cock. It is so hard that it is standing almost flat to his stomach, and so long that it covers his belly button.
He places the head of his huge cock against my gaping vagina and enters swiftly and aggressively. I gasp at the sudden size of him. My wet vaginal walls are immediately stretched. Devlin’s cock is large, warm and smooth. The wood that sodomizes me is cold, rough and unforgiving. Between the two appendages, I am filled to overflowing.
A deep shudder passes through my groin.
Devlin begins to fuck me hard. He’s overpowering and strong. His massive cock slides and slams against my cervix, and out again in fast, brutal strokes. I cry out as he grabs me around the legs for deeper penetration. My asshole burns from the friction and jolts of my hips as my buttocks are repeatedly nailed to the tree.
Devlin fucks and fucks me, his pumping becoming swifter and harder as he goes on. It is as though he means to drive me into the tree. His breathing quickens and his face becomes flushed with exertion.
And still he goes on. In my bound condition, I can only be a vessel to his battering ram. The waves of pleasure begin to build in me, starting from my G-spot – which he insists on pummeling with vigor – to my entire pussy area, and then upward to my stomach and very erect nipples. With each stroke and each hammer, the waves of pleasure increase, until my mind is filled with a white haze and I’m screaming uncontrollably.
I don’t know how long it goes on – this mindless, frenetic fucking. My vulva is sucking his cock with a moist sloppy sound. An endless tap of fluid drips from within my pussy. Devlin writhes and grinds his buttocks against me so that his cock strokes and teases every cleft and crevice of my deep vagina.
Finally, when I’m almost blinded by ecstasy, he shoots his hot load into my pussy.
He moans and shudders as his rhythm diminishes to a few more pumps, and then ceases completely. He pulls his softening cock from my flooded pussy and leans back against the tree, breathing hard. His cum continues to dribble from my pussy to copiously stain my pulsing anus.
After a long while, Devlin pulls himself from the tree.
He wanders off.
“Master!” I call after him. Surely he does not mean to leave me like this?
He pays me no heed and vanishes behind the cluster of trees. After a few minutes, he returns, carrying a jar and narrow paint brush.
Pausing before me, he unscrews the lid of the jar. He inserts the paint brush into the sticky yellow concoction inside and brings it out again. I smell the sweet tang of rich honey.
Devlin dabs the thick syrup on my pussy.
“Master, what are you doing?” I whisper, unnerved.
He continues to paint my labia with the honey, dipping deeply into my grooves and the sides of my clit. Taking a generous chunk, he shoves the bristles of the paint brush into my still aching vagina and swipes it in a round.
When he has finished, my pussy is a sopping, sticky and yellow mess.
He says in satisfaction, “The insects of the garden will find your cunt very interesting, and if they don’t come, the itch will build as the honey dries. I’m going to leave you like this for a while.”
With that, he turns heel and leaves me, his muscled buttocks rolling attractively.
I stay like this for a long while, the knob in my anus making its presence felt every inch of the way. Above my head, my wrists and ankles chafe. My thigh muscles ache from being strung up too long. My entire torso feels compressed by the corset with every breath I take.
The sun shifts position, dappling the leaves into different shadowy patterns. In my disorientated and distressed state, I do not know how long it has been.
A dragonfly wanders close, followed by a pretty blue and green insect with bulbous eyes. I stare at them, alarmed, as they buzz around my pussy.
“Shoo,” I say, trying to wriggle against my bonds.
The blue and green insect settles on my sticky right labia and begins to crawl across to the other side. Its little legs brush against my throbbing clit.
“Go away,” I say desperately, jerking my hips outward. The woody outcrop digs into my rectal walls as a reminder that I can’t move too much.
Another large fruit fly swarms from above and lands on top of my clit. I try to contract my pussy muscles to ward them off, but they persist. The honey is beginning to crust, and a slow itch spreads through my entire groin.
I feel a crawling sensation at the swell of my buttocks. Frightened, I peer down at my pussy. A large black ant is circling the mound of my left buttock to the front, where it dips its antennae into my vaginal hole.
“No!” I cry as it crawls into my vulva. Its soft legs run inside my vaginal passage, embedding into the sticky honey layered inside. Another ant appears at the curve of my buttock. More insects of different colors and sizes are starting to appear. The itch intensifies.
My entire pussy is pockmarked with crawling and buzzing insects, and I’m terribly afraid that one of them might sting or bite my quivering flesh.
“Please . . . help me!” I cry. “Master, help me!”
More ants burrow into my snug and sweetened vagina. I try to raise myself from the woody protuberance that is my conduit to the tree and the ants, but it is too deep inside my ass.
“Master!” I call again.
The sound of scuffling shoes filters through the trees.
A man appears, followed by a youth only slightly younger than me. The boy is pushing a wheelbarrow. They pause as soon as they see me and stare at me in wonder. The man is swarthy, dark-skinned and thickly muscled. His T-shirt is streaked with dirt and soil, as are his fingers. From the small trowel in his hand, I guess that he is the gardener.
“Please, sirs, but will you untie me?” I plead.
Leaving the wheelbarrow behind, the gardener and his apprentice come closer. Their rounded eyes take in my protuberant red nipples and the obvious distress my pussy is in.
“Who is she?” the boy says in awe.
“Master Devlin’s initiate,” the man replies.
The boy’s gaze roams to my bonds. “Should we untie her?”
My hopes sag.
The man comes up to me. The flies buzz away. “What is your name, young initiate?”
“Gina,” I say, praying that if I’m nice to them, they would show me mercy.
“What have you got there all over your twat, Gina?”
Tears spring to my eyes.
“Honey. Please, sir, if you may wash it away, I would be most grateful.”
The gardener casually parts my right labia from my clit with the dirt-encrusted end of his trowel. He does the same with my left. The ants clamber frenetically away. The gardener bends down to examine my pussy, observing the way the stem brutally invades my anus. He taps my anal rim with his trowel and peers up my vaginal hole.
“Any more ants in there, do you reckon, Pedro?”
The boy shyly squats beside him. “I don’t know, sir.”
I notice the prominent bulges in both their pants. My mouth goes ever so dry. Down there, even without the insects, the itch becomes a flame.
“What would you like to do to her, Pedro? All Master Devlin’s initiates are ours to do as we please.”
My heart begins to drum a torrid beat.
The boy pauses for a long while, taking in my pleading eyes and moist parted lips. He finally says, “I should like lick the honey from her cunt, if I may be allowed to do so, sir.”
“Go ahead.” The man steps back.
The boy is coal-eyed and slim. His face is fine-boned and there’s no stubble on his delicate jaw. He curls his mouth around my right nipple and sucks it hungrily. He repeats this with my left, squeezing my breasts with his rough, dirt-streaked hands.
Then he kneels before me and presses his lips against my pussy. He takes my labia between his teeth, sucking and nibbling at them gently. He runs his tongue down my clefts and clit, and repeats the motions, eroding the sticky honey with his saliva.
My pussy juices begin to flow as I gasp.
Pedro grips my thighs as he continues to bury his face into my pussy. His cunning tongue slips into my vulva and makes a circular motion there, lapping up the combination of honey and juices. As he deftly flicks his tongue and mouth over my clit, I’m electrified.
I moan, dripping cream from my swollen vulva, awash in his saliva.
After he has licked all the honey from my labia, clit and surrounding areas, he pauses. His chin is stained with honey and pussy juice.
“Is there still honey inside your cunt, Miss?”
Higher up in my vaginal canal, the fiery itch remains. I nod, my eyes tearing.
The gardener has been an observer so far, but I notice he has removed his shirt. His olive colored muscles gleam with sweat.
“Go to the wheelbarrow, Pedro,” he orders. “Find something that will ease her discomfort.”
Pedro runs back to the wheelbarrow, peeling off his shirt as he does so. His body is slim and hairless. He returns with a small sack. He squats before my pussy again.
He withdraws a large green banana from the sack. The gardener unzips his fly and whips out his large dark cock, sprouting from a nest of dark, tangled curls. Pedro painstakingly peels the banana to reveal its white unripe flesh.
“If you will permit me, Miss.”
I nod mindlessly.
He plunges it into my aching vulva and slides it in deep. He twists the banana around as I moan. He continues this for a while, taking care to wiggle it so that the banana digs into every crevice of my vagina.
“Is your cunt still itching, Miss?”
The itch is lessening, but it persists. “Yes, young sir,” I say.
Pedro withdraws the banana, which now contains dollops of honey and white cream. He reaches into his sack again and takes out a long, fat cucumber.
“Wait a bit, Miss.”
I watch as he pares off the snaky green skin from the cucumber’s top half, using a slim garden knife. Then he fashions the top of the cucumber into a pointed tip.
“Its juices will cleanse you, Miss,” he says.
I nod helplessly as he shoves the cool cucumber into my vagina and once again digs it all round, as though he’s trying to core into my deepest recesses. He uses every motion he can think of – rotational, corkscrew, sliding – all the while working the cucumber’s tip. When he finally withdraws it after a time, I am sore but refreshed by the cucumber’s properties.
“Very good, Pedro,” the gardener observes. His dirty hand is stroking the long shaft of his cock. “Now what would you like to do to the young Miss? You have earned it.”
“I would badly like to fuck her, sir.”
I’m too fatigued to protest.
“Very good. But first, let us rescue her from her woody tormentor.”
Relief floods through me. Tears of gratitude sting my eyes. “Oh thank you, thank you,” I almost weep.
The gardener gives me a sly look.
Between the two of them, they manipulate my bonds and ease my poor, very sore asshole from the woody stump that has occupied it for the past two hours or so. But instead of lowering my hands and feet, they string them up again so that I’m still spread widely in a ‘V’ formation, only there is now a good space between my buttocks and the tree.
Pedro drops his pants. His cock is long and smooth with a bulging purple head. I’m sandwiched between the two of them, my arms and legs secured more tightly than ever, dangling vulnerably from the tree branches. With dread, I soon realize why they have liberated me from my anal punishment.
Pedro positions the tip of his cock at my vaginal opening while the gardener slicks my asshole with his saliva.
I can only moan a feeble “No” as they enter me simultaneously from both ends.
The sensations assault me as both cocks slide in. The gardener grabs my corseted waist as Pedro hugs my opened thighs. Pedro grunts as he establishes a swift, hard rhythm. My ceaselessly throbbing asshole is stretched and filled as the gardener slowly matches the movements. I am kept from swaying by their opposing, balanced thrusts, as though I am a piece of meat that is being pounded from both sides.
The cocks slide in and out of my holes in unison, choreographed dancers in my humiliation. Pedro grinds and twists into me while the gardener nails me with equal force from the other side. I am expanded, swollen, stroked, pounded and teased. A wail bursts from my throat as I realize that the waves are threatening to crash through me again. I am finding my debauchery entirely too pleasurable for what it is worth.
In front and behind me, the men’s moist balls – slicked by my outpouring pussy fluids – go slap-slap-slap wetly against the swell of my buttocks. The friction of their shafts against my vaginal and rectal walls gives off a rhythmic ‘plop plop plop’ sound.
Finally, Pedro squeezes my tits roughly as he accelerates his pace. The moist smacking sounds increase as I groan, shuddering deeply. The waves of my orgasm crest and flood my belly and nipples. Pedro continues to slam into me at a punishing pace, his sweat-slicked face contorted.
As Pedro climaxes and squirts his sperm into me, he withdraws just as suddenly, and my whole world goes blank. I find myself screaming with the hot tide of pleasure that washes through me. My pussy walls clench and a jet of my own come shoots into the air.
It lands on the grass several feet away.
The gardener is still fucking my asshole as a naked Devlin steps out from behind the trees, where he has been filming us with a hand camera. The gardener makes to pull out of my asshole, but Devlin stops him with a raised palm.
“Please, finish what you started, Miguel. Don’t let my presence interrupt you.”
Devlin comes closer and continues to film, training the camera at my pussy, and then squatting below my buttocks to film Miguel’s cock still punishing my asshole.
I can see Devlin’s wide grin.
He says, “Maybe it’s time to introduce you to our patron, the Dean of the college.”