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“Yes, sir, Mr. MacMahon,” Gerald replied, closing the door. “Those are some nice melons, aren’t they Pat?” Vince asked. “I would certainly say so, Vince,” Pat replied. “Now, then Trish, that we’re all familiar, we’re going to go to simpler requests. You said you had two words for me out there? I’m sorry? Well I’ve got 5, Trish. Turn around and bend over,” Vince proclaimed. Trish looked at him with wide eyes. He had never talked to her in such a manner before. He was acting as if she had no dignity. Tears began to roll down her eyes, as she turned around. She didn’t have any dignity. She bent over, exposing her moist, long red vagina for all three old men to see. All of them were old enough to be her father. Vince laughed at her, and told her to spread her ass cheeks. Trish, sullen and distraught, reached her hands around and pulled them open wide to expose her brown little hole, tight as could be.
“That’s good, Trish,” Vince said, and undid his belt. Trish could hear this and was shocked. She thought Vince would make her show off everything to his cohorts, but surely he wouldn’t let them see him fuck her in such a demeaning position? Her fears were confirmed when she heard his pants hit the floor, and he pulled down his underwear. He had a hard-on, but it wasn’t particularly large. McMahon was a big man, but not everything about him was as colossal as he wanted to believe. His cock stood at a good 6 inches, and he approached Trish. He reached around her hips and got himself in position.