Anal Bounty Hunter

Tommy Pistol hunts Abella Danger like prey through a city where no one calls the cops. He ropes her fast and hauls her to his place. She fights, but the cuffs bite hard. A fat ball gag stretches her mouth open. She drools on herself while he straps her facedown, ass up, wrists snared behind her knees. He yanks the little black thong aside and buries his face between her cheeks. His tongue works her tight hole until she’s slick and open. Then he flips her around, clamps her thighs over his head, and shoves his cock down her throat. They grind into each other, sixty-nine raw and hungry, her muffled moans vibrating around his shaft. When he’s good and stiff, he climbs behind her, grips her hips, and pushes straight into her ass. Abella’s eyes go wide. Every plea she tries to spit past the gag turns into a strangled whine as he drives deeper. He doesn’t slow down; the harder she struggles, the rougher he gets, pounding her stretched hole until his balls slap wet against her skin. Sweat runs, skin slaps, and the only thing she can do is take it.