Current score 41 - 44 in favor of Jasmine
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As we rolled around on the ground, I grabbed her by the throat, flipping us so her bare back hit the ground with a smack. Her eyes rolled back for a second, long enough for me to wrench her torn panties down her legs and shove the soaked blue silk into her gaping mouth. "Chew on that, you cocksucking tourist," I snarled, yanking her arms above her head with one hand while the other clawed down her stomach to her exposed pussy.
Jasmine’s muffled scream vibrated through the silk gag as my fingers plunged into her cxnt, twisting hard enough to make her hips jerk off the floor. The bikers’ laughter crescendoed into a frenzy—someone tossed me a length of bike chain, the metal clattering against the linoleum. I didn’t hesitate. Wrapping the chain around her wrists, I yanked it taut, pinning her arms above her head. Her large tits bounced with the motion, nipples stiff and angry under outdoor sun. “Looks like someone’s still got fight left,” I taunted, dragging my nails down her sternum until blood welled in thin lines.
Jasmine's body bucked wildly beneath me, her muffled screams turning into desperate whimpers as my fingers worked deeper inside her. The chain around her wrists clinked with every frantic twist of her body, her thighs trembling as I curled my fingers in a cruel twist. "That's it, fight it," I sneered, dragging my free hand down to her swollen clit and pinching it between my thumb and forefinger. Her back arched off the floor, a strangled sob tearing through the gag.
Jasmine’s body convulsed under me, her hips jerking in useless little spasms as my fingers twisted inside her. The gag muffled her screams, but the sound of her wet cxnt squelching around my knuckles was loud enough for the whole store to hear. The bikers roared, their boots stomping on the ground like a drumroll. I leaned down, my breath hot against her ear. "Gonna make you come while they watch," I growled, my thumb grinding circles on her clit. "Gonna make you scream into your own fucking panties."
Jasmine's muffled screams turned into choked, wet sobs as my fingers pistoned inside her, her thighs trembling violently. The scent of her arousal mixed with sweat and blood filled the air—thick, primal. Her hips jerked in erratic little circles, her body betraying her even as she tried to twist away. "Look at her," I snarled to the crowd, twisting my wrist deeper. "Fucking *dripping*." The bikers howled, their phones flashing as Jasmine's back arched off the floor, her toes curling.
Jasmine’s body locked up like a live wire when the orgasm hit her—her thighs clamped around my wrist, her cxnt pulsing around my fingers in tight, desperate spasms. A ragged, muffled scream tore through the gag as she came, her back arching so violently I thought the bike chain might snap. The bikers erupted into cheers, their laughter and whistles drowning out her shuddering gasps. I didn’t let up, driving my fingers deeper, twisting them until she whimpered, her hips twitching in oversensitive protest.