He did no such thing. He grabbed his cloth napkin from his lap and tossed it across the table toward her, motioning for her to mop herself up. Livid, she tilted her head back and guzzled the rest of her sweet tasting wine in one quick motioned fell swoop. Announcing, ‘I’m going to the effing bar to get something a bit more powerful’. He waived her away without a hint of remorse. With his back to the bar sitting at the table, and her back to him as she approached the bartender, she figured it was time to break out the heavy alcohol to drown her sorrows quickly and effectively. Summoning to the bartender that she would like a doubleshot of Crown Royal and a Martini—stirred with 2 olives—she lopped her purse on the counter and stood there waiting for him to comply. Suddenly, she felt 2 very muscular hands place themselves on her hips and slowly side around to the front of her abdomen and gently make their way toward her C-cup breasts. She smiled and thought that it was about. He rode her arse for a few minutes, pounding her as hard as he could as he approached climax. Angelina had to push back hard with her legs to stop herself being pushed over by his hard thrusts into her arse. Her arse tingled from the pounding and her wrists hurt from the cuffs cutting into them. As he got just near the brink he pulled out sharply and grabbed her hips. Before she could register what was going on, he rolled her onto her back, twisting her hair and crushing her arms uncomfortably under her. Angelina’s large breasts jiggled as she landed, before Greg straddled her upper body and knelt over her, his cock in her face. He grabbed her head and thrust his cock into her gasping mouth, causing her to gag since she wasn’t ready. “Suck bitch” he hissed, grabbing her head. Angelina did exactly as she was told and sucked as hard as she could, the hollows of her cheeks sucking in as she did, her tongue curling up round the sides of his shaft and round his head as she did. He bounced.
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