Nouveauté
Bong Mine Filthy Teachers Deep Cravings. Cecile de Vendome, #102
Par :Formats :
Disponible dans votre compte client Decitre ou Furet du Nord dès validation de votre commande. Le format ePub est :
- Compatible avec une lecture sur My Vivlio (smartphone, tablette, ordinateur)
- Compatible avec une lecture sur liseuses Vivlio
- Pour les liseuses autres que Vivlio, vous devez utiliser le logiciel Adobe Digital Edition. Non compatible avec la lecture sur les liseuses Kindle, Remarkable et Sony
, qui est-ce ?Notre partenaire de plateforme de lecture numérique où vous retrouverez l'ensemble de vos ebooks gratuitement
Pour en savoir plus sur nos ebooks, consultez notre aide en ligne ici
C'est si simple ! Lisez votre ebook avec l'app Vivlio sur votre tablette, mobile ou ordinateur :
- FormatePub
- ISBN8235747128
- EAN9798235747128
- Date de parution23/06/2026
- Protection num.pas de protection
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurIoakim Ioakim
Résumé
Deep in a Liberian mining site, a crew of ex-convicts claims two busty volunteer school village married teachers, turning every night into a relentless cycle of raw, breeding-focused debauchery. Following their wild encounters with the dominant ex-convict miners in the extraction chamber, Alexandrine and Cecile retreated to their village huts. They took a quick, needy dip in the river nearby, but their thoughts remained trapped in the mine, replaying every moment of what had happened underground.
On one side, they had loved every minute of this, completely submitting to their raging lust. The memory of those massive, powerful bodies pressing them into the dirt and steel made their skin tingle with a heat that no river water could cool. They felt more alive in those dark, industrial chambers than they ever had in the clean, quiet large huts of the village school. On the other side, a cold dread settled in their chests.
As respected school teachers, they knew the danger of what they had become. The fear was a constant, gnawing thing. They were the village's pillars of education and morality, the women the tribal elders looked to for guidance. If anyone suspected that they had spent their afternoons being used and bred like common street walkers by the ex-convict miners, they might be in some trouble. Yet, every time they closed their eyes, the shame was eclipsed by the hunger.
Cecile could still feel the phantom weight of Momolu on her, the way his firm hands had gripped her hips with such effortless authority. Alexandrine's body still thrummed with the echo of Keseely's brutal, unrelenting rhythm. The thought of returning to those underground chambers, to those massive, dark-skinned men who took exactly what they wanted without apology was becoming a compulsion. They looked at each other across the riverbank, and no words were needed.
The same question burned in both of their eyes. Both teachers knew their bodies and minds were screaming for one thing. Going back again and again. The memory of the miners' rough hands and dominant presence burned in their skin, leaving them hollow and desperate.
On one side, they had loved every minute of this, completely submitting to their raging lust. The memory of those massive, powerful bodies pressing them into the dirt and steel made their skin tingle with a heat that no river water could cool. They felt more alive in those dark, industrial chambers than they ever had in the clean, quiet large huts of the village school. On the other side, a cold dread settled in their chests.
As respected school teachers, they knew the danger of what they had become. The fear was a constant, gnawing thing. They were the village's pillars of education and morality, the women the tribal elders looked to for guidance. If anyone suspected that they had spent their afternoons being used and bred like common street walkers by the ex-convict miners, they might be in some trouble. Yet, every time they closed their eyes, the shame was eclipsed by the hunger.
Cecile could still feel the phantom weight of Momolu on her, the way his firm hands had gripped her hips with such effortless authority. Alexandrine's body still thrummed with the echo of Keseely's brutal, unrelenting rhythm. The thought of returning to those underground chambers, to those massive, dark-skinned men who took exactly what they wanted without apology was becoming a compulsion. They looked at each other across the riverbank, and no words were needed.
The same question burned in both of their eyes. Both teachers knew their bodies and minds were screaming for one thing. Going back again and again. The memory of the miners' rough hands and dominant presence burned in their skin, leaving them hollow and desperate.
