Up and down, her snatch slid over the thick glass. The movement caused the liquid to slosh upward, giving her steaming pussy a bath of potent alcohol....God, she knew how to ride. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I roughly lifted her up onto the desk, while simultaneously taking long swigs from the pussy-warmed bottle. I could taste her youthful musk and the sharp malt of the liquor as it burned down my throat. I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to me, taking another generous mouthful. Finally she changed to a small paint brush, one of the most devious tickle torture implements we had come up with. She pumped the gag up to fully fill my mouth and let me know that she hadn't forgot about my feet and toes. When she started on my feet I thought I would die, I couldn't think straight, I couldn't scream through the gag and I couldn't control the spasms running through my body. My eyes were so teared that I couldn't see, my awareness was limited to the brush traveling over my feet,. More

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