After seconds (minutes? Hours?), my body begins to relax and I become aware of my settings once more. Of the breeze and the sun and trees and the rock...s. I move my fingers, gently stroking my inner walls feeling the pulsing frenzy subsiding. I breathe deeply, my heart rate slowing back to normal, and smile blissfully as I bask, completely spent, in the sunshine. I ease my fingers out of my pussy and run them up over my ultra-sensitized clit; gasping and shuddering as the impact sends an. "Did you just call me a nigger?" He ground out in anger, his eyes turning cold like tiny ice cubes.My new bride gave me a horrified look and slapped me across the face. "Don't you ever use that word around my presence! I can't wait any more then you for our time alone but you didn't have to offend our host like that!" She hissed these words with such heat that I felt fear tighten my stomach the fact that I might not be able to consummate our marriage as I wanted to was almost too much to. It seemed to be pushing her legs apart inviting the touch of her hand. Still fondling her breasts with one hand, she reached down with the other to feel the hot wetness between her legs. Her vulva parted easily and she slid an exploratory finger inside. She could not remember it ever feeling like this – all warm and soft as well as slippery wet. The tiny bud nestling inside the top of the warm wetness tingled as her finger slid over it, seeming to swell in response to her touch. Rubbing her. Could I help that my body was physiologically responding to his sexual torture? Did he think I would volunteer for this? Did he think that I would proactively seek out someone to do this to me? This guy was certifiable. Maybe it was better that I was gagged. I was speechless. I looked at him in disbelief as, this time, still with his cock seated deep in my pussy, he reached down and tightened the clamps one more time. As the additional, incremental pain registered in my tits, connected by a.