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‘I told you to hit your prick,’ The Fist growled.
‘Sorry,’ Deepak sighed. He took it in hand and pumped. When The Fist traced his greased-up index finger around his asshole, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. Even one finger could be a task if he wasn’t ready. He breathed deeply as The Fist ploughed him with the first finger. He could hear Walter gasping even as he sighed with pleasure.
The Fist offered some encouragement as his greasy finger moved in circles. ‘Deep, you got a tight little pussy-hole here, don’t you?’
He pumped his cock slowly. He wanted to make his erection last as long as possible. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I know it’s tight.’
‘Hey, don’t sorry me,’ The Fist laughed. ‘You’re the one who’s going to get a fist all up in there.’ He grabbed hold of Deepak’s thigh as he shoved a second finger inside.
Inhaling sharply, Deepak stroked his dick from base to tip. If he were just pounding one out, he’d go straight at his cockhead until it sprayed jizz. But he wanted to make this one last. For The Fist.
Three fingers. ‘Tight fuckin’ fit,’ The Fist said. Like he knew the half of it. Three fingers to the knuckles. Deepak tugged his meat while The Fist plunged inside. Firm, greasy fingers fucked him good.