Luna's Big Stretch

Luna hangs there, wrists lashed to the ceiling, gag crammed between her teeth. Naked. Open. Tommy Pistol starts with sharp smacks to her pussy, then grabs her by the lips and drags her in slow, painful circles. Her tits get worked next, grabbed hard, slapped, yanked. When he’s ready he sinks his fingers deep, pries her open, stretches the hole until it yields. Only then does he pull his cock free and slam into her from behind, pounding her like he owns the floor under her feet. She’s strung up on a wooden cross next, legs spread high and wide. He drives into her again, every thrust bottoming out. The Hitachi buzzes her clit while he keeps working her open—fingers, then his whole hand. Fist. Cock. Both. He switches without warning, keeps her guessing, keeps her full. On the ground, hands still tied, she gets the full treatment. Flogger bites her skin while his cock rams her throat. He pulls her by the hair, slaps her face, uses her like a rag. Then he drops, drags her on top, fucks her pussy, fucks her mouth, flips her, squats over her ass-up body and drops into her again. More flogging. More fist. More cock. He’s relentless. He even pushes into her swollen earlobe, fucks that stretched little hole before making her ride him with the vibe pressed to her clit. Final load lands across her face, thick and hot, while she kneels there, wrecked and dripping.