"Ooooh it's coming!" T'Shaul cried happily, as if Hitomi Fujiwara were a litle girl at a parade seeing the first glimpse of Hitomi Fujiwara's favorite float. Her legs clamped around Ethans ass and locked him into place deep inside Hitomi Fujiwara's throne. He clamped his mouth on hers and grunted as his cock pulsed the first stream of long-simmering semen into T'Shaul, who was already orgasming. They're gentials seemed fused together, pulsing and squirting and throbbing as one. Ecstasy flared sodium bright in the Bond at each pulse. T'Shaul and Ethan shared images of Hitomi Fujiwara's body filling up with hot streams of cum and their orgasm blasted harder. Ethan was sure he'd have bruises from being squeezed so hard but he didn't care. Sadly, the pulses grew weaker and farther apart. Eventually, there was only a rippling that faded slowly. They remained locked together for several minutes afterwards, their grips loosening only slowly. Eventually, they opened their eyes again, lips still locked together. Sighing contentedly, the couple kissed T'Shaul thought finally. Ethan squeezed Hitomi Fujiwara's gently. Hitomi Fujiwara's brow, and touched the pencil to the pad. The idiots sitting at the booth could not make up their mind, and Hitomi Fujiwara
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