Fake UK Blonde screams in ecstasy as rough fingers pound her wet pussy on the casting couch

Angie could wear a burlap bag and make it look fabulous, she was a knockout in this outfit. “Shave her” commanded Paul and Angie heard the buzz of a hair-trimmer. XXX “I don’t want to mmmppphhhhhh” was all Angie could start to say as Paul pushed a gag-ball into her mouth and harnessed it around her head. Now she was clean-shaven, naked, in the sun: the burning sun. Angie was exhausted from the sun, the face-fucking, the sunburned pussy fucking and general abuse at the hands of the boys: she could resist no more. Taking a chance, Angie answered a personal ad and arranged to meet a man (a potential master named Paul) at a local restaurant for breakfast.