“You wait here, little cunt. Indian sex Sandy tried not to show it, but she was equally afraid. Sandy was grunting as a fifth man began to pump his cock into her ass. All she could do was listen, eyes closed, and beg inwardly for relief. “I’m a worthless slave cunt. Finally, after the anticipation and dread had been mounting for the better part of an hour, after the two girls had had to listen to the increased activity of men moving about the camp, the outer tent flap at last opened again. The General Aamir’s bulky form, his sweat-stained uniform plastered to his torso, was pushing forward, and now he sported a smug and malicious grin. Along the left side of the tent was a line of 25 men laying down, their cocks erect. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly disengaged his mouth from hers. Perhaps it was easier for Sandy to keep up the façade of optimism since she was the only one of the four captured aid workers who hadn’t been raped yet. “You’re fading, bitch. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” she mewled. Please give me your seed!”
The man named Haseem looked at her unimpressed, hands pillowed behind his head, eyeing her cunt as it slid down to encase every inch of his prick.
