The Creep

The sheets are barely covering Charlotte Sins. Lingerie barely there, tan legs stretched out, ass round and waiting. Uncle Alfie stands over her, breathing like he’s been waiting all night for this. He grabs her fast with those leather gloves and yanks her out of bed, straight into the living room. She’s cuffed at the wrists, tape around her ankle, pinned hard against the couch before she can get away. He spreads her open, tongue on her cunt, fingers inside, vibrator clamped on her clit. She fights at first, kicking, cursing, but soon she’s grinding against it, hips jerking as he drags orgasm after orgasm out of her. He slaps her face, spits in her mouth, then locks all four cuffs behind her back. His cock shoves down her throat, wet and deep, her drool dripping everywhere. He smears it across her face with the head of his dick, crops her ass while he does it, then flips her to her knees and fucks her mouth again. Bent over, cheeks spread, she watches him slam inside her pussy, red handprints blooming with every slap. He flogs her thighs and keeps thrusting, hard. Finally he rolls her on her back, strokes out over her cunt, and pushes back in, filling her up, breeding the prize he took.