Home > Unreal > My Beastly Husband > CH 20.2

My Beastly Husband CH 20.2

Author:Shui Mo Yuan Qian Category:Unreal Update time:2022-10-01 00:41:26


Moussa did not say anything and did not open her mouth.

Chelsea did not have the patience and bit her mouth.

Then he kissed her and forced her to open her mouth and eat.


Moussa choked when Chelsea forced-fed a piece to her.

She hurriedly opened her mouth to stop him from feeding her, “Chelsea, I’m full.

I won’t eat anymore.”


Although Chelsea was not satisfied that she ate too little, her tight walls clamped him, and it was unbearable.

He could not care less whether she ate more or less.

Since she said she was full, then he had to start.


So he stood up, holding her waist.

Moussa was unprepared for it, and she leaned back.

Her little hands grabbed the edge of the wooden table and laid down on her back.

He pulled her up, and so she was half in the air there.


Moussa was frightened that she subconsciously wrapped her legs around his waist.

Her p*ssy involuntarily tightened her grip on him, causing Chelsea to hum in comfort.

He grabbed her two small, snow-white bum and ruthlessly thrust her down from the top.


Chelsea originally went into the deep, but now it was easy to get deeper into that stance.

Each time, he topped inside her cervix.

The inner walls of her womb protruded upward.






Ah ah ah ah! I’m going to be torn apart by you! Ah! Gently.

Too deep! Mmm… ” Moussa begged him as she clenched herself in pain and fear.


“Mmm… ” Chelsea was a little pained by her clamping.

He grunted, slowed down his movements, vigorously rubbed the white bum, and coaxed her in a low voice.

“Baby, relax, relax.

You’re squeezing too tight.

I can’t move.”


As soon as Moussa heard it, she tightened it even more and thought, “I think it’s better if you can’t move.”


Chelsea felt that she did not only relax but also tighten even more.

He knew she was doing it on purpose.


He gnashed his teeth and said, “This is what you asked for.” He pulled himself out and went in hard, stretching her tight walls regardless of whether it would hurt her.


Moussa reaped what she sowed.

He held her down and viciously impaled her for a while.

The tremendous stimulation caused her eyeballs to roll back, and a wave of spasms swept through her body from the center of her core, accompanied by a hot stream of squirting crescendo.


“Mmm… Mmm …” Moussa lost her strength after the climax and fell limp on the wooden table as she moaned.

She let him grab her waist to get the most out of her.

He kept working on her vigorously, one after the other.


Chelsea took a while and seemed dissatisfied that she was so slumped and weak.

So he pulled himself out and let her turn around and lie on the wooden table.


Then he held her waist and ordered, “Hold your bum up and let me in.”


Moussa was tired and just wanted to sleep.

How could she even make do that She hummed and rubbed herself on the wooden table and then stopped moving.


“Get on it.” Seeing that she refused to cooperate, Chelsea slapped her small bum twice.


“Hmm.” Moussa felt the pain and raised her bum.


“Little thing, you won’t listen without a spanking.” Pleased, Chelsea parted her cheeks and pushed in hard, thrusting heavily.


Moussa was a little sore from the friction of her p*ssy, which brought her back to her senses for a moment.

Listening to the constant ‘plop’ of body slaps and the wet sounds coming from below, Moussa felt ashamed.

This was especially true since she was still seductively sticking her arse out and letting him do it.


Moussa unconsciously tightened herself, causing Chelsea to growl.

He teased, “Little thing, it is very comfortable, right It is very comfortable when I do this, right You are clenching so tightly and also dripping so much water out.

I will make you more comfortable.

Let me have you here, and you will definitely feel good.”


While saying so, he put a finger into Moussa’s bunghole and expanded it.


“Ah!” Moussa moaned in pain but did not speak up to stop him.

Anyway, he was on a roll.

No matter what, even if she begged him, Chelsea wouldn’t stop.

As long as he won’t really enter, she’d just let him play.


Seeing that she didn’t cry and scream in refusal like usual, Chelsea was in a good mood and picked her up from the wooden table.

He turned her head around and kissed her tenderly.


Moussa took the opportunity to plead, “Chelsea, let’s go back to bed, okay.

The table is hurting me a little.”


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