666 Trouser Snakes On A Plane

“Enough is enough! I ’ave ’ad it with these motherfuckin’ trouser snakes on this motherfuckin’ plane!” Chas—only her mum called her Charlotte—spat the words out in a spray of cum the moment the tenth cock in as many minutes slid from her mouth. Its owner slumped, as limp as their spent member, legs splayed to bare the dribbling cunt beneath.“That’s cultural appropriation!” Dave called from the other aisle once his mouth was also cock-free. “I’m the hot black man—I should get to say that!” The slap, slap, slap of the blonde taking the transman from behind punctuated every other syllable.“But you didn’t, and we’ve only got fifteen minutes left! Anyway, I’ve ’ad three kids, so it’s literally true in my case.”Just then, the plane pitched forward. With an aggressive slam of kaçak iddaa her hips backwards, Chas clenched her sphincter and vaginal muscles. Occupants of both orifices released their loads, and she kicked herself off them into a dive through the legs of several more sex-crazed passengers. The open door to the cockpit was only metres away when a hand caught her arm.A pregnant redhead dragged her onto her lap. As with all those who had succumbed to this curse, her clitoris had transformed into an obscene, wriggling phallus that had possessed her mind, giving her one purpose—to fuck. Earlier, that weird nun, Sister Britney, had called the affected women “futas”, explaining that anyone they fucked changed within thirty minutes. Rather than resist, however, Chas guided her kaçak bahis to her cunt, for their only chance lay in the infected passing out from their orgasms.Another writhing dick slid over her buttocks. Thick, tattooed hands groping her tits and the beard above her told her this was no futa, but then those born with cocks were not immune. In fact, they took less time to change, since their penises controlled half their brains already. Hence the problem—once the pilot had opened the cockpit for their scheduled mid-flight fuck, the passengers were doomed. So Chas and Dave had volunteered to fuck their way to the front and—if they could make it before they grew their own demonic dicks—hope her experience hang gliding was transferrable to a 747.That hope made her eagerly illegal bahis press the hairy biker to her arsehole. With both cocks twisting inside her, she began sucking hard on the redhead’s nipples to bring about orgasm faster. Futas would shoot off very quickly—rather like her ex, if his cock had been as big as her forearm and moved like a novelty vibrator.A guttural moan to her left drew her eyes to Dave, gaining on her. An improbably well-endowed Korean Air stewardess gripped his waist and rammed her cock into his “mancunt”—his delightful name for his vagina—while he arched his back to deepthroat the sari-clad futa blocking his route. With every thrust of the stewardess, he kicked against the seatbacks, pushing his fuck along. As they drew level, the futa in front collapsed, spraying his beard with cum. Not missing a beat, he grabbed the armrests for support, flexed his internal muscles to milk the other futa’s cock, before releasing and doing a backflip onto his feet.