Dirt Pig does a Middle Eastern Businessman
The pig plug wedged itself against my swollen, flopping hole lips, streching my already immense hole to outrageous proportions before slipping in deep into my stretched bowels. My hole had no more resistance left and my legs, tied to my shoulders, just fell back as I moaned from somewhere two feet inside my raped ass.
I opened my eyes, hearing a straining, grunting noise. His gigantic hair-coated asscheeks, perched above my chest were pulled back by his strong, small hands as a good-sized log of warm, wet turdmeat oozed from his hair-swarthed hole to rest across my chest from swollen, sore titknob to swollen, sore titknob.
“Eat this out good, you toilet,” he commanded, as he slid his reeking, unwashed buttcheeks across my chest and down onto my face. For leverage, he grabbed my distended knobs and poised his slime-dripping hole only an inch from my panting lips before plopping the wet, gaping and shit-smeared hair crevice onto my waiting mouth.
The hairy Arab sat down hard, opening the filthy depths of his butthole to my strong, probing tongue.
“Yeah, toilet pig, wash my foul hairhole. Eat that caked on slime, you dirtpig. Eat it, eat it.”.
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