“Don’t. Here it come, payback, for every whitey bitch whats ever done me wrong.”
“Don’t do this. You got that?” the big man on the barstool interrupted her. “Bro, you’re fucking her now. Just soon as we done with ya. Spittle exchanged between them as he forced his tongue way back in her mouth. A callused thumb ran hard circles around her clit, while fat fingers clutched and dug into her lips and hole. The men licking their lips as lustful deadly passion filled the room. “Excuse me,” she said, with a plaintive, nearly pleading tone. Kristen’s breath became ragged and shallow, her body quivered, like a leaf. They stroked them, getting ready, ready to use those nasty baboon pricks on her. A pink, callused, rough palm jarred Kristen’s cheek once, then the back of the hand smacked the other.
