
Wayne dropped his hands from around Karen's hips and began to pinch the tanned, flawless skin of her ass. She groaned in pain as his fingernails tore into her satiny skin, bucking wildly to avoid the ripping pain. He caught tiny pieces of her flesh between his fingernails and then sliced into it, burning agony through her lithe body. She squirmed helplessly from the sudden, intense agony.
"Oh yeah!" Wayne shouted, fucking her harder now, riding her like a rodeo horse. "I'm warming her cunt up now. She's fucking almost like she knows what she's doing."
Karen twisted desperately, trying to escape Wayne's punishing fingers or give him enough pleasure that he would stop pinching. She opened her mouth wide for Mark, sick at giving in to them but knowing that she was helpless. If the pinching was the first thing they thought of to bend her to their will, she didn't want to think about what they'd do if she drove them further.
Wayne stopped pinching her when he saw her open her mouth for Mark, but he pulled his belt off and doubled it in his hands. As Mark began to push the monstrous head of his prick against the tightly stretched ring of Karen's mouth, Wayne began to beat her with the belt.
Karen screamed again, her mouth going wider, and Mark managed to drive the tip of the head of his cock into her mouth. She writhed and twisted wildly on the desk, unable to understand why they were still punishing her now that she was going along with them, unable even to plead with them now that Mark had wedged her mouth wide open with the tip of his cock.
Mark bludgeoned forward, grinning at the way Karen's lips were stretched like a rubber band around the huge girth of his cock. His cock was really too big around to go into the helpless widow's mouth, but he forced it in anyway, thinking about the way Karen had teased her husband's employees, about the way she'd treated him like an errand boy. Now she was choking on his cock and taking a beating and a fucking at once. And he was just starting the process of paying the bitch back.
