Then Big Tom started fumbling with his belt buckle, yanking his zipper down and letting his hard cock spring out. Then I knew why his friends called h...m Big Tom: his eleven inches brushed against my pussy lips; slipping against the wetness on my taunt little thighs. He groaned with pleasure, telling me he was going to tear me up with his tremendous dick.And with only that as warning he pushed forward, nailing into me, stretching my little but wet twat, almost tearing me with his size. I cried. I’m home now. That broken down car on the side of the road isn’t an IED. That van coming up on our left isn’t speeding up to shoot at us. Why is my wife driving so slow? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and as thankful as I am to be back with my family, I’m still feeling the effects of jetlag, so I take a nap.* * *“You really need to get the sand out of your pussy,” Anderson says to me, as we fly down the deserted road. I ignore him, as I do every time I know I can get away with it.. More

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