Indian Muslim forced gangbang in interview
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Horny Interview free porn video
It was something I had become obsessed about and didn’t think was ever going to happen and it probably wouldn’t have done if it wasn’t for my sister – at least, not in the way I expected.
With her delicate features and deep green eyes, Sara had only recently become aware of the affect she had – on men, and on the world – and was making up for lost time. Everyone, just everyone, adored Sara. But then, they didn’t know her.
Things always seemed to work out for Sara, at least I always thought so, and to me, it’s just not fair. She’s a year younger than me and had suddenly shot up with long perfect legs that she was showing off like an absolute tart in a little pink skirt, but to her, everything about herself was demure and charming, even with so much bare flesh streaming out from below her skirt.
I read one last time through my notes on the English victory over the French at Agincourt and raced upstairs to the exam room where four other girls were already at their desks crisscrossing their legs and sweeping the hair from their eyes. We exchanged nods and good lucks and I realised I was going to miss Saint Sebastian’s. The convent had been my home for the last five years and I didn’t think I was ready for the real world, we had in truth been so coddled and protected, but now that protection now felt like restrictions, and my mind wanted to be free to explore the opposite sex, and my body was screaming for attention.
The moment the exam was over, I blew kisses to the others and ran. We had started twenty minutes late and I bolted down the drive, along the busy high street and down into the tube without even combing my hair.
The convent is at the furthest point on the Piccadilly Line and it was already rush hour by the time I squeezed into the packed carriage.
The Underground smelled like a charity shop and I always had the feeling that someone was pressing against me rather harder than they should have been.
Sara didn’t have my figure, but she had those long legs revealed half way up her thighs, while my plaid kilt fell to the prescribed two inches below the knee. I hiked the skirt up at the waistband and hid the folds of material by pulling out my blouse. Now, I just looked scruffy. I sighed despondently as I took off my socks and hid them in my backpack.
The Summer placement was going to be cash benefit for the girl who got it, we all needed money to spend and Sara and I were once again pitted against each other, only this time, our faces and figures tantamount to selection, we both knew what he was really wanting, it was just a case of how far we were willing to let him. Our only rival was Virginia Ward, a really nice girl who thought her red-framed glasses were cool and still didn’t have anything to put in her white cotton bra. Flat chested Virginia was the sort of girl you did prep with and avoided going out with on Saturdays, when we were allowed to go into town, and try to make men lust after you.
The agency was in one of those little passageways running into Chinatown. I had printed out a map on the web. It was easy to find, although I was so late when I finally got there the thought crossed my mind that it was more than likely that everyone had left for the day. Sara had got the job and I was going to kill her when I got home. I pressed the buzzer despondently and let out a sigh of relief when a deep voice came on the entry-phone.
‘Yes?’
‘Frida Johnson,’ I said and the door clicked open.
Inside the building it was dark. As I climbed the stairs, I don’t know what came over me, but I did something utterly mad. It was just silly really, immature, and on the spur of the moment, but had consequences that I would ponder long into the future. I was hot in my blazer. The bag of books weighed a ton. Perspiration was trickling between my shoulder blades and between my breasts, and without thinking, I opened the top button on my blouse. Finally, I could breathe.
As I climbed the second flight of stairs, as if this action constituted some mathematical prerogative, some hidden equation, I undid the second button. My heart was pounding and the soft creamy mounds of my breasts were rising and falling, and my nipples felt so hard against the cotton of my blouse, and I caught my breath and tapped on the door.
‘Come in.’ The voice was muffled and seemed far away.
He was an older man, much older than I suspected, but in one way I was glad, he was mature and might even like me more because I was so young, but then again, my sister was even younger again, "Fuck she wins again"
I saw him look up from some photographs he was looking at, to look at me as I approached him. He looked me up and down, like a farmer studying a prize Heifer cow at a market, before he buys her, his eyes peering at my front, and I realised he was staring at my chest, I was wet and my nipples were clinging to the sweaty front, and the fact I had undone those buttons, he was enjoying my exposed flesh.
"That was your sister I just saw", he asked me, his eyes dropping down to my over exposed thighs, from under my tucked up skirt?
"Yes", I replied, "I had an exam, she did not", I blustered, feeling me heart sink, "the fucking bitch got it", I thought.
I glanced down and to my horror I saw another button had popped open by itself, now half my tits were showing, but I looked up and saw he was staring at them, "You know about computers", he addressed my tits, and his eyes now dropped to my slightly parted knees, as I sat down on the seat in front of him?
"Yes Sir", I gulped, I really began to feel vulnerable, I was being ****d by his eyes, and my mouth was dry, and my breathing heavy, which made my breast heave.
He traversed my knees to my heaving breasts and up into my azure blue eyes, "You're just s*******n", he asked thickly, and I blushed at his gaze, I suddenly realised I was in a conversation with an adult man, having a one on one, and I suddenly felt my age, very girlish and silly.
"Yes Sir", I repeated, just like the last time, he was becoming dominant and I more subservient, and again I realised my only bargaining chip, was my body, at least that looked very adult.
"What do you plan to be after school", he asked me. "Cambridge", I blurted, adding quickly, "History and theatre", and then went quite as I felt small again, he was toying with me.
"You want to be an actress", he queried, as he shifted in his chair, man-splaying and opening his thighs and pushing his crotch at me.
Again for the third time in a row, I answered, "Yes Sir", and swallowed hard, I swear I saw his cock twitch under his pants.
"You need a strong sense of discipline to be an actress Frida," he then said, and his eyes fell deliberately onto my bared breasts and his tongue moistened his lips, as he spoke, "do you have that discipline Frida", he challenged me?
"I think so". This time I avoided the same pitfall and expanded a little more in a defiant way, and in response he got up and asked me to follow him, "Leave you bag and jacket here, I want to show you something".
In one way I felt relieved to be moving and in another way happy to do so because it meant there was still a chance the position was open.
As he got up and turned to the door, I was going to do up my blouse, but before I could, he stretched his hand out. I wavered for a second and, when I took it, he squeezed really quite hard and led me down a narrow flights of stairs with wooden rails on each side, the space between them so narrow we were pressed together like two people descending on the escalator to the Underground.
I felt like I did on the underground, feeling a man press against my body, only this time we were alone and I was wanting a position and he knew it. I wondered if my sister had let him have his way, but then again, surely not, if she did, he would not be doing this with me.
We entered a room with four big flat screens pulsing a pale blue light along one wall and a row of tall filing cabinets opposite. He clicked a loose mouse and brought up the face of a famous actor I’d seen on TV many times but whose name at that instant escaped me. Was he doing this to impress me?
I wasn’t sure. I was just hot and tense. I was in a world that fascinated and frightened me at the same time, I could feel the cotton in my knickers work between my labia, I knew my lips were swollen and the rubbing, as I walked and moved, was starting to drive me crazy.
I was hot and starting to sweat as the heat from all the screen and computers suddenly hit me. He was watching me as the cotton of my blouse started to soak up my girlish sweat, and I could see he was enjoying my discomfiture.
My top and the rolled up waistband of my skirt suddenly began to feel restrictive as the lack of air made the room feel stifling.
He went across to the water dispenser and poured a glass of water and handed it to me. I took it and gulped it down, feeling some of the water escape my mouth and run down my chin and land between my breasts. He seemed to enjoy my embarrassment and again I could feel the anger rising in me.
I handed him the glass and he suggested I have another, and he refilled it and came back. "Let me do it", he said, I was confused and just stood there as he lifted the glass to my mouth and began to pour it in.
I could not drink it fast enough and then it began to pour all over my front, soaking me, leaving nothing to the imagination of what I looked like as a young girl.
The actor man on the computer screen laughed out loud, "That's more like it, now she is interesting", and I felt a tingle of excitement, as both men stared at me and I knew why, as I looked down, the soft plain around my nipples darkened from pink to a cherry red, the little buds that were my girlish nipples had sprung out rigid and were prickling to my touch. The beat of my breath hastened. I lifted my hands to cover my shame but mechanically, as I do during masturbation, I took those erect nipples between my thumbs and fingers and rolled them hard. I had thrown back my head and although I tried to control it, I realised I was panting, and both men fell silent as I shamefully pleasured myself.
"Take it off". It was more of a demand, and I felt for the next button. I tried to move but I was rooted to the spot. My knees trembled and the slope of my tummy was knotted against the roll of material at my waist. I opened my throat to suck air into my constricted lungs and his eyes remained on my breasts, now slowly being exposed to him, and as I angled my arms awkwardly up my back to peel the stuck cotton from it, I heard him say under his breath, "Well, come along then, let’s have a proper look, shall we," he said, and he sounded like the biology teacher before we peered down the microscope.
I stood naked from the waist up, holding a ball of wet cotton that was meant to be my blouse, his eyes transfixed on my ever stiffening nipples.
He placed his hand flat on my ribs, below the under-curve of my breasts, and it was true, they were round and full, the little teats on fire beneath my fingers. His touch was firm, and the awful thought flickered through my mind that I wanted him to cup my breasts in his hands, take them into his mouth and bite me hard. The vision sent shivers up my spine, and a trickle of pee down my inner thigh.
I had been leaning against a desk, and groaned out loudly, I heard a noise coming from the screen and saw with a mixture of fear, awe and sexual excitement, the man was masturbating himself watching us, I was now facing him with both my hands on the table, being bent forward, his hand now on my shoulder and pushing me forward onto the table, he wanted me to bend over.
I did so until my nipples touched to cold surface, even in this humid hot room, the cool surface jolted my brain to remind me i was near naked and close to being penetrated.
I lost focus of the famous man on the screen, all I saw was his cock, as if I was going to take him in my mouth, it was surreal and crazy, as I looked ahead with my mouth wide open.
He slowly drew up the hem of my skirt and I gazed spellbound at the feel of my rising skirt now exposing my white knickers. I looked back at him and he looked into my eyes. I think I smiled. Everything was happening so fast it was hard to catch my breath. The edge of the desk was pressing hard against my mound, the edge of the desk was pleasuring my clitoris and I was moving myself over it again and again, just as my finger does when i rub myself.
When he placed his hand on my knicker clad buttocks, I locked my legs together and it was like seeing a car drive uncontrollably towards a cliff edge, his hand moving up the backs of my thighs, and across the plump muscle of my arse, I could not help myself and started squeezing my nipples and humping the desktop. It was a nice feeling, but I knew there was a far nicer one if I assumed the postilion, so I slid back up the table and supported myself, feeling my breasts were bobbing about, and I opened my legs slightly.
He pulled at the elastic as if to peek into a closed box, lowering the back and revealing the soft curvature of my bum. My mouth was open. I was observing what was happening as if it had nothing to do with me. I wriggled but his hand was firm. The white cotton material was bunched up between my arse cheeks. He pulled again, just softly, staring into my buttocks, and I don’t know why, but for the briefest moment I lifted my bottom from the glass table and watched him lower my knickers slowly down to my knees and to the floor where I stepped out of them, feeling free and wanton for the first time in my life.
He placed the palm of his hand on my stomach, warning me not to move, and bent down and picked up my knickers. I felt so ashamed as he studied the yellow stains in the gusset, and my mouth literally dropped open when he held the cotton to his nose. I had no idea why anyone would want to do such a thing and I watched in a trance, this strange man with my damp knickers pressed to his face while he inhaled.
"Mmmmm"he moaned out loud, and then he put them into his pocket, his trophy, soaked with my bodily fluids.
"Are you a virgin, Frida?" His voice was a whisper, almost breaking the spell.
"No", I groaned, I wanted hi so bad I lied to make him have me.
He laughed quietly making me feel humiliated, as I shivered in the heat, "You are, aren’t you? You must tell the truth".
I remained silent, then I knew, "She told you, didn't she"? Still he waited for my to be truthful and honest with him.
"Yes Sir, I am still a virgin" and as I spoke these words, I opened my thighs wide and bent forward onto the table.
I took a deep breath and uttered forcefully, "Now you fuck me".
DeletePublished by Fridagirl 1 minute ago 0
With her delicate features and deep green eyes, Sara had only recently become aware of the affect she had – on men, and on the world – and was making up for lost time. Everyone, just everyone, adored Sara. But then, they didn’t know her.
Things always seemed to work out for Sara, at least I always thought so, and to me, it’s just not fair. She’s a year younger than me and had suddenly shot up with long perfect legs that she was showing off like an absolute tart in a little pink skirt, but to her, everything about herself was demure and charming, even with so much bare flesh streaming out from below her skirt.
I read one last time through my notes on the English victory over the French at Agincourt and raced upstairs to the exam room where four other girls were already at their desks crisscrossing their legs and sweeping the hair from their eyes. We exchanged nods and good lucks and I realised I was going to miss Saint Sebastian’s. The convent had been my home for the last five years and I didn’t think I was ready for the real world, we had in truth been so coddled and protected, but now that protection now felt like restrictions, and my mind wanted to be free to explore the opposite sex, and my body was screaming for attention.
The moment the exam was over, I blew kisses to the others and ran. We had started twenty minutes late and I bolted down the drive, along the busy high street and down into the tube without even combing my hair.
The convent is at the furthest point on the Piccadilly Line and it was already rush hour by the time I squeezed into the packed carriage.
The Underground smelled like a charity shop and I always had the feeling that someone was pressing against me rather harder than they should have been.
Sara didn’t have my figure, but she had those long legs revealed half way up her thighs, while my plaid kilt fell to the prescribed two inches below the knee. I hiked the skirt up at the waistband and hid the folds of material by pulling out my blouse. Now, I just looked scruffy. I sighed despondently as I took off my socks and hid them in my backpack.
The Summer placement was going to be cash benefit for the girl who got it, we all needed money to spend and Sara and I were once again pitted against each other, only this time, our faces and figures tantamount to selection, we both knew what he was really wanting, it was just a case of how far we were willing to let him. Our only rival was Virginia Ward, a really nice girl who thought her red-framed glasses were cool and still didn’t have anything to put in her white cotton bra. Flat chested Virginia was the sort of girl you did prep with and avoided going out with on Saturdays, when we were allowed to go into town, and try to make men lust after you.
The agency was in one of those little passageways running into Chinatown. I had printed out a map on the web. It was easy to find, although I was so late when I finally got there the thought crossed my mind that it was more than likely that everyone had left for the day. Sara had got the job and I was going to kill her when I got home. I pressed the buzzer despondently and let out a sigh of relief when a deep voice came on the entry-phone.
‘Yes?’
‘Frida Johnson,’ I said and the door clicked open.
Inside the building it was dark. As I climbed the stairs, I don’t know what came over me, but I did something utterly mad. It was just silly really, immature, and on the spur of the moment, but had consequences that I would ponder long into the future. I was hot in my blazer. The bag of books weighed a ton. Perspiration was trickling between my shoulder blades and between my breasts, and without thinking, I opened the top button on my blouse. Finally, I could breathe.
As I climbed the second flight of stairs, as if this action constituted some mathematical prerogative, some hidden equation, I undid the second button. My heart was pounding and the soft creamy mounds of my breasts were rising and falling, and my nipples felt so hard against the cotton of my blouse, and I caught my breath and tapped on the door.
‘Come in.’ The voice was muffled and seemed far away.
He was an older man, much older than I suspected, but in one way I was glad, he was mature and might even like me more because I was so young, but then again, my sister was even younger again, "Fuck she wins again"
I saw him look up from some photographs he was looking at, to look at me as I approached him. He looked me up and down, like a farmer studying a prize Heifer cow at a market, before he buys her, his eyes peering at my front, and I realised he was staring at my chest, I was wet and my nipples were clinging to the sweaty front, and the fact I had undone those buttons, he was enjoying my exposed flesh.
"That was your sister I just saw", he asked me, his eyes dropping down to my over exposed thighs, from under my tucked up skirt?
"Yes", I replied, "I had an exam, she did not", I blustered, feeling me heart sink, "the fucking bitch got it", I thought.
I glanced down and to my horror I saw another button had popped open by itself, now half my tits were showing, but I looked up and saw he was staring at them, "You know about computers", he addressed my tits, and his eyes now dropped to my slightly parted knees, as I sat down on the seat in front of him?
"Yes Sir", I gulped, I really began to feel vulnerable, I was being ****d by his eyes, and my mouth was dry, and my breathing heavy, which made my breast heave.
He traversed my knees to my heaving breasts and up into my azure blue eyes, "You're just s*******n", he asked thickly, and I blushed at his gaze, I suddenly realised I was in a conversation with an adult man, having a one on one, and I suddenly felt my age, very girlish and silly.
"Yes Sir", I repeated, just like the last time, he was becoming dominant and I more subservient, and again I realised my only bargaining chip, was my body, at least that looked very adult.
"What do you plan to be after school", he asked me. "Cambridge", I blurted, adding quickly, "History and theatre", and then went quite as I felt small again, he was toying with me.
"You want to be an actress", he queried, as he shifted in his chair, man-splaying and opening his thighs and pushing his crotch at me.
Again for the third time in a row, I answered, "Yes Sir", and swallowed hard, I swear I saw his cock twitch under his pants.
"You need a strong sense of discipline to be an actress Frida," he then said, and his eyes fell deliberately onto my bared breasts and his tongue moistened his lips, as he spoke, "do you have that discipline Frida", he challenged me?
"I think so". This time I avoided the same pitfall and expanded a little more in a defiant way, and in response he got up and asked me to follow him, "Leave you bag and jacket here, I want to show you something".
In one way I felt relieved to be moving and in another way happy to do so because it meant there was still a chance the position was open.
As he got up and turned to the door, I was going to do up my blouse, but before I could, he stretched his hand out. I wavered for a second and, when I took it, he squeezed really quite hard and led me down a narrow flights of stairs with wooden rails on each side, the space between them so narrow we were pressed together like two people descending on the escalator to the Underground.
I felt like I did on the underground, feeling a man press against my body, only this time we were alone and I was wanting a position and he knew it. I wondered if my sister had let him have his way, but then again, surely not, if she did, he would not be doing this with me.
We entered a room with four big flat screens pulsing a pale blue light along one wall and a row of tall filing cabinets opposite. He clicked a loose mouse and brought up the face of a famous actor I’d seen on TV many times but whose name at that instant escaped me. Was he doing this to impress me?
I wasn’t sure. I was just hot and tense. I was in a world that fascinated and frightened me at the same time, I could feel the cotton in my knickers work between my labia, I knew my lips were swollen and the rubbing, as I walked and moved, was starting to drive me crazy.
I was hot and starting to sweat as the heat from all the screen and computers suddenly hit me. He was watching me as the cotton of my blouse started to soak up my girlish sweat, and I could see he was enjoying my discomfiture.
My top and the rolled up waistband of my skirt suddenly began to feel restrictive as the lack of air made the room feel stifling.
He went across to the water dispenser and poured a glass of water and handed it to me. I took it and gulped it down, feeling some of the water escape my mouth and run down my chin and land between my breasts. He seemed to enjoy my embarrassment and again I could feel the anger rising in me.
I handed him the glass and he suggested I have another, and he refilled it and came back. "Let me do it", he said, I was confused and just stood there as he lifted the glass to my mouth and began to pour it in.
I could not drink it fast enough and then it began to pour all over my front, soaking me, leaving nothing to the imagination of what I looked like as a young girl.
The actor man on the computer screen laughed out loud, "That's more like it, now she is interesting", and I felt a tingle of excitement, as both men stared at me and I knew why, as I looked down, the soft plain around my nipples darkened from pink to a cherry red, the little buds that were my girlish nipples had sprung out rigid and were prickling to my touch. The beat of my breath hastened. I lifted my hands to cover my shame but mechanically, as I do during masturbation, I took those erect nipples between my thumbs and fingers and rolled them hard. I had thrown back my head and although I tried to control it, I realised I was panting, and both men fell silent as I shamefully pleasured myself.
"Take it off". It was more of a demand, and I felt for the next button. I tried to move but I was rooted to the spot. My knees trembled and the slope of my tummy was knotted against the roll of material at my waist. I opened my throat to suck air into my constricted lungs and his eyes remained on my breasts, now slowly being exposed to him, and as I angled my arms awkwardly up my back to peel the stuck cotton from it, I heard him say under his breath, "Well, come along then, let’s have a proper look, shall we," he said, and he sounded like the biology teacher before we peered down the microscope.
I stood naked from the waist up, holding a ball of wet cotton that was meant to be my blouse, his eyes transfixed on my ever stiffening nipples.
He placed his hand flat on my ribs, below the under-curve of my breasts, and it was true, they were round and full, the little teats on fire beneath my fingers. His touch was firm, and the awful thought flickered through my mind that I wanted him to cup my breasts in his hands, take them into his mouth and bite me hard. The vision sent shivers up my spine, and a trickle of pee down my inner thigh.
I had been leaning against a desk, and groaned out loudly, I heard a noise coming from the screen and saw with a mixture of fear, awe and sexual excitement, the man was masturbating himself watching us, I was now facing him with both my hands on the table, being bent forward, his hand now on my shoulder and pushing me forward onto the table, he wanted me to bend over.
I did so until my nipples touched to cold surface, even in this humid hot room, the cool surface jolted my brain to remind me i was near naked and close to being penetrated.
I lost focus of the famous man on the screen, all I saw was his cock, as if I was going to take him in my mouth, it was surreal and crazy, as I looked ahead with my mouth wide open.
He slowly drew up the hem of my skirt and I gazed spellbound at the feel of my rising skirt now exposing my white knickers. I looked back at him and he looked into my eyes. I think I smiled. Everything was happening so fast it was hard to catch my breath. The edge of the desk was pressing hard against my mound, the edge of the desk was pleasuring my clitoris and I was moving myself over it again and again, just as my finger does when i rub myself.
When he placed his hand on my knicker clad buttocks, I locked my legs together and it was like seeing a car drive uncontrollably towards a cliff edge, his hand moving up the backs of my thighs, and across the plump muscle of my arse, I could not help myself and started squeezing my nipples and humping the desktop. It was a nice feeling, but I knew there was a far nicer one if I assumed the postilion, so I slid back up the table and supported myself, feeling my breasts were bobbing about, and I opened my legs slightly.
He pulled at the elastic as if to peek into a closed box, lowering the back and revealing the soft curvature of my bum. My mouth was open. I was observing what was happening as if it had nothing to do with me. I wriggled but his hand was firm. The white cotton material was bunched up between my arse cheeks. He pulled again, just softly, staring into my buttocks, and I don’t know why, but for the briefest moment I lifted my bottom from the glass table and watched him lower my knickers slowly down to my knees and to the floor where I stepped out of them, feeling free and wanton for the first time in my life.
He placed the palm of his hand on my stomach, warning me not to move, and bent down and picked up my knickers. I felt so ashamed as he studied the yellow stains in the gusset, and my mouth literally dropped open when he held the cotton to his nose. I had no idea why anyone would want to do such a thing and I watched in a trance, this strange man with my damp knickers pressed to his face while he inhaled.
"Mmmmm"he moaned out loud, and then he put them into his pocket, his trophy, soaked with my bodily fluids.
"Are you a virgin, Frida?" His voice was a whisper, almost breaking the spell.
"No", I groaned, I wanted hi so bad I lied to make him have me.
He laughed quietly making me feel humiliated, as I shivered in the heat, "You are, aren’t you? You must tell the truth".
I remained silent, then I knew, "She told you, didn't she"? Still he waited for my to be truthful and honest with him.
"Yes Sir, I am still a virgin" and as I spoke these words, I opened my thighs wide and bent forward onto the table.
I took a deep breath and uttered forcefully, "Now you fuck me".
DeletePublished by Fridagirl 1 minute ago 0
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