WWT: The Vineyard

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Ass

The sphere slid inside of me, gyrating and whirring, pounding against my pussy as Kent spoke, oblivious to what had happened. “So first there’s a tasting…”I couldn’t concentrate. That purple imitation, just a little larger than a real grape, had traveled down my thumb, following down my skin as though attached magnetically. It tickled, ridged, yet glass-like, astonishing me with how easily it traversed my body. It spun around my sundress until it found my thigh, swirling around the inside and then quickly rushing up inside my vagina before I could react. Why the fuck hadn’t I worn panties?Would that have even stopped it?Kent went on, oblivious to the alien egg lodged inside my vagina, twisting and turning inside, causing me to noticeably squirm as I walked. With every step, I could feel the thud against güvenilir bahis my clitoris, deepening my desire. The group continued walking, the guide now talking us through the different details of each grape while I tried to focus on keeping my legs together.Oh god, I need to cum. The thought terrified me almost as much as the idea of a strange grape permanently lodged inside of me. The thing thudded with each step, sending unknown erotic signals up and out to the tips of my fingers. Each step became agony, the voices and conversations around me droning on into dull, white noise. Thank god Kent was engaged with our tour guide, discussing the mundane growing details as I blushed, wondering if the purple ball inside of me would cause me to cum right here in front of everyone. Maybe then my boyfriend güvenilir bahis siteleri would notice.  It was a constant, churning pressure, right against my most sensitive areas, traveling and tracing perfectly inside of me so that I had to clamp down. I stood there sopping wet, squeezing my thighs against each other like a cricket, trying to keep myself from cumming. I let out a soft coo…Kent didn’t notice, but this girl gave me a look.I waited for an opportunity, ducking out at the next row. I needed to go somewhere, anywhere, but the nearest bathroom was inside the bed and breakfast, at least a mile away. I nearly ran, my hand over my pussy like I needed to pee.I almost wondered if I had, feeling the gushing wet excitement running down my leg uncontrollably. I had never been a squirter, iddaa siteleri and yet there seemed to be all the traces. My juices streamed down until I found the nearest tree, deciding I couldn’t wait any further.I pulled up my dress, spreading my labia, trying to reach and pry the thing out with my fingers. I pushed inside of myself easily, fitting three fingers deep enough to spin the thing. Making it so much worse.I shook, pleasure pushing back against my concern, until without any conscious thought my other hand appeared on my clit, rubbing as the fingers I needed to fish out the vibrating ball turning inwards, moving inside and out.I was fucking myself. My back scratched against the tree as I came, writhing and screaming, senseless to my surroundings. But the ball didn’t stop, keeping me almost suspended in another state of orgasmic anticipation. I closed my eyes, giving in, letting the thing work alone inside of me, abandoned myself to my fate. And then it left. My lips tingled at the absence; my canal emptied of its chief joy. 

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