Lynn #1: Petite Poser Creamy Casting part 3 and Super-duper facials (M/F sex)

Although it wasn't immediately clear to you, what exactly the porn director meant by calling the small, snarky super-scientist in his grip a 'spinner' soon becomes clear. Gripping her pasty white thighs with his tanned muscular hands, he slowly turns her entire body all the way around on his lap, juicing her tight pussy against his hard, unyielding cock like a lemon, and producing almost as much juice. For the first time, Mort lets out an airy, breathy gasp. Normally, her voice is surprisingly deep for such a small woman (no doubt because of her smoking habit), but now for the first time a shrill, feminine cry tumbles from her lips as the brutish 'director' forcefully grinds her crotch down against him when she is half-way turned around, with one of her legs on his chest and one dangling down between his feet, before turning her further, all the way around so that you are looking at her profoundly embarrassed face and the perky rose-colored nipples protruding from her almost-nonexistent breasts. Mike pushes her forward so that she is sitting bolt upright in his lap. She tries to close her legs, her dainty little feet kicking awkwardly towards the floor, but he uses his knees to keep her thighs spread wide open.

The merciless Mike grips her trim little tummy and slowly begins to bounce her up and down on his lap, treating the most brilliant mind of the League of Propriety almost like she's a sex toy. Mort squeezes her shadowed, heavily-made-up eyes closed as the camera guy gets down on his knees and brings the handicam closer to zoom in on her stretched cunt as more and more of the director's oversized cock vanishes inside of her.

"C'mon baby, come on, stop squirming around. I'm going to let you take the lead in just a moment like I know you wanna, I just want to show off if you can take the full length of my cock...." he slowly moves her up, and holds her there, just on the edge of the head of his shaft slipping out, for a long moment... waiting until Mort makes a soft whimper of trepidation and opens her mouth to say something before suddenly pushing her hips down on him again, not stopping until his wrinkled, hairy balls are covering up all but a tiny little bit of her moist labial lips. "AHHHH yeah! Nothing like that! Balls deep in a superheroine...! ...poser!" he hastily adds on to the end, leaving her there fully stuffed with his cock for a moment while he rubs his hand over her stomach and teases his fingers over her navel. "Okay Paris, you can start moving now, but don't start out too fast, I thought I was going to cum already for a second there."

You feel like you should say something, do something, put a stop to this somehow. But honesty is important to you, and you aren't too proud to admit that watching this is making the thong part of your leotard practically burn where it is digging into your crotch. You shift your sitting position, crossing your legs in the other direction uncomfortably as you feel yourself start to get damp. This kind of horrible display isn't actually turning you on, is it? Well, maybe it is. People pay to watch this stuff for a reason, right? You would think that the fact that the people involved are a guy who could out-creep a rattlesnake and a woman who was more geeky-looking than attractive would scramble any possible appeal, but somehow the lacking qualities of the people involved just makes the show more fun to watch.

The lout sitting next to you says what you're thinking, quiet so the camera won't pick it up. "Wow. That's a genuine superheroine and one of the greatest scientists in the world, you know? And she's doing squats on the cock of some guy from Akron, Ohio whose own mother'd be ashamed to admit she knows him. Hell of a thing, isn't it? I can tell it's getting you hot to watch it, baby. If you'll do a scene with us you can have my share of the-"

You shove your hand over his face and cut off his breathing. Even with both hands he can't manage to budge your palm, and he has to slump down onto the floor to get away from it, gasping for breath. He seems to know he got off easy, and just chuckles as he goes back to watching La Petite Mort getting her cunt stretched out by a turgid shaft that is anything but "petite". Soon he's pushing her forward off of him and bending her over the arm of the couch, driving himself into her from behind... and then rolling her around in his grip again so her legs are wrapping around his waist.

Seeking new ways to heighten her humiliation for the cameras, the director keeps one of his hands on her hip while reaching up with the other to squeeze her cheeks between his fingers. On cue, the one holding the camera steps closer and zooms in on Mort. It is hard to tell at this point if she is rolling her eyes in bemusement or if it really is feeling good for her. For your part, your mind is starting to dwell less on this high-ranking superheroine's potentially compromised state of mind, and more on the fact that it's been a good few months since you had fun in bed with anyone.

Petite Mort eventually takes the initiative, taking the opportunity of the guy's grip slackening to jump up off of him. You tense, wondering if she's hit her breaking point. But rather than give him a kick or grab for her discarded clothes, the short pale woman gets down on her knees and opens her mouth uncomfortably wide to accept him into her mouth. Funnily enough, it seems that while she has the impressive ability to take all of that giant cock inside her pussy, she can't fit it all in her mouth, and soon the director is taking advantage of it to **** her head down on his lap, producing undignified gagging sounds that one of the crew brings a microphone in close to capture.

She comes up for a gasp of air and states at Franco with hot contempt as she begins jerking her hand up and down on his spit-slicked length. It seems like she is going for a repeat of the trick before. But before she can go very far he reaches down and grabs her pale, slender waist in his rough hands again lifting her up. "That's nice, Paris... but I'm not ready to go just yet. Let's let everybody see you getting fucked some more. What do you think about trying anal with us today?"

"I think you can go fuck yourself, pig." Petite Mort leans over and spits on the floor next to him. "Unless you have a lot more damn money. Besides, did you see how much coffee I've had today?"

Although you aren't so naive that you don't know what 'anal' means, you aren't quite sure what she's getting at, there. Instead of being upset or disappointed, the middle aged man pulls her closer and starts licking and sucking on her teeny-tiny breasts and firm pink nipples while pulling her back over his lap. "Mmm. Oh you taste good. I would show you what the 'pile driver' is but you're so small and light that I'd be worried about hurting you, baby. Come on, sit down on my cock again and show everyone what you've got before you give me any more sucking."

She glares over at you again, seemingly annoyed you have been staring - all of those pornographers were sleazes and horny guys, but what is your excuse, she seems to silently demand. You just smile awkwardly and give her a wave. With a sigh, she spreads her legs very wide and closes her eyes, leaning her head all the way back as she uses her legs to lower her hairless pussy onto him, stretching herself once again over his sizable cock. She goes slow this time, arching her back and letting her head lean back so that her long black hair drapes over his chest. She goes slowly at first, pausing every few dips to gyrate her ass side to side when making contact with his hips, giving him a very intimate kind of lap dance. Mike Franco himself is sporting quite a sheen of sweat and looks to be closing in on his limit as he cups his hands under her delicate buttocks and begins to urge her to speed up.

Petite Mort is so light that he can pump her up and down like a toy with just the strength of his arms, and soon she is giving strangled little squeaks each time that her ass slaps against his hips. Mike straightens up a little in his seat, forcing Petite Mort to bend further forward too. He slows his pace slightly and begins breathing more heavily, groaning heavily each time the base of his shaft disappears inside her and she's left squeezing her dripping pussy against his balls. After one fateful lowering he lets out a low groan and then sighs, laying his head back on the couch. Petite Mort rests her hands on his hairy thighs for a moment and them starts slowly moving up and down again. "Hnnhhh... I know you are paying me, but you are not paying me enough to do all the work. I work 14 hours without rest plus souvent, how about you do a little of the work now, you sweaty ape?"

Mike Franco gives a satisfied sigh and hums to himself. "Oh, you're done, Paris. Go ahead and get up off of me and spread your legs so that the camera can see that creampie."

"Crea... What?" the little woman with bags under her eyes raises an eyebrow in annoyance and slowly stands up off of his lap. Looking down, she notices that his cock is already flopping limply onto his thigh, leaving a tiny dribble of white cum running out of her tight pussy. "Qu’est-ce que c’est ? ...AHHNNNHHH! You shit!" she grimaces and reaches down to slap the balding man upside the face as she slides off his lap to the side, hiking one of her legs up onto the arm of the couch and spreading her dribbling pink pussy-lips with two fingers. "You came inside me? How fucking dare you?!"

"What?" The director asks as he beckons the camera to come and zoom in on Petit Morte's dribbling cunt from a low angle as a spot of hot jizz begins forming under her on the couch. "The video's called 'Poser Creamy Casting', of course it's going to be a creampie scene. Damn, that looks hot..."

You halfway get up. Is this your call to action? He has clearly just demonstrated malicious intent. But Petite Mort isn't exactly in immediate danger, here...

The small super-scientist puts a palm on her forehead and vocalizes her feelings with a deep, exasperated groan. "Ho... It is disgusting, is what it is! Eyahhh! Do you think I want the DNA of some greasy primate like you making a mess inside of me? And now I'm going to have to go in to meet with my colleagues while feeling your semen leaking out of me for the next hour?"

"Very fucking hot." the director says with satisfaction, and all of the guys around seem to agree. "Go ahead and do your best to squeeze it all out for the camera, baby. Besides, even if you're on the pill, it can't hurt to get all of that cum out as soon as possible. Oh... are you on the pill? I guess I never asked, hah, but, I guess it's a little too late to ask you now. If you aren't then that's all the more reason to flex those cute little abs of yours and make sure you squeeze it all out for us."

Blushing and grimacing, Petite Mort doesn't have anything to say directly to that and closes her eyes as she holds her breath, trying to do as he says and, in the process, squirting out a little bit of pee. "Hey, c'mon Paris, we aren't doing watersports today. You're just trying to squirt the cum out." Franco mocks her as she grumbles frantic curses under her breath.

Petite Mort, breathing heavily now and flicking her gloved fingers up inside of her snatch, stumbles to her feet and looks past you. "I deeply, deeply need a shower right now. And a douche. And maybe some steel wool. Get out of my way..."

"Whoah, hold on." One of the other goons grabs her by her shoulder. "We were doing two scenes today, remember? Sit back on the couch. Don't worry this one won't take as long, but you're gonna need a shower way more after this one. Right, boss?" he asks Mike with a smirk.

You look over at the clock. Your clone ran on out of here a good 15 minutes ago. That should easily be enough time to get to the League Headquarters and back. What the heck is taking her, er, you, so long?

Even as you are wondering, the mildly protesting Petite Mort sits back on the couch, folding her arms over her chest with a sour expression as three separate cocks of various sizes and colors are thrust into the camera frame from several sources, pushing close to her face until she sighs in annoyance and opens her mouth, turning to the side to let the first of them past her lips and starting to gag on the thick shaft. Perhaps it's because of her phenomenal skills or the excitement of watching her previous scene... or perhaps the guy just doesn't have the stamina... because within less than two minutes the first of those cocks is pulling back out of her mouth and spraying several jets of hot white jizz across her tiny breasts. The next one doesn't give her a moment's respite as a pair of hands grabs her head and forces her to take the second cock deep-throat...

Perhaps you should go ahead and leave the room at least, until your copy gets back with a proper mind-reading capable hero. Plus, in the hall, there'd be less scrutiny on you if you were to... experimentally... adjust the fit of the crotch of your outfit, a little bit, with your fingers...