Pegazus Amateur Fetish Films - Be A Good Boy And Smell Our Farts VII

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Pegazus Amateur Fetish Films - Be A Good Boy And Smell Our Farts VII

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Be A Good Boy And Smell Our Farts VII

As the lights dimmed, a sense of anticipation filled the air. In the center of the room, three gorgeous women in revealing lingerie stood tall, their bodies quivering with excitement. They watched as their captive, Olavo, was led into the room. His eyes were filled with fear and uncertainty as he realized what awaited him.



The women surrounded him, their voices low and seductive. They ran their fingers along his chest, down his stomach, and to the hem of his shorts. Their gazes were intense, their bodies swaying in unison as they prepared to unleash their power.



The first woman stepped forward, her face close to Olavo's. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, filling the room with the scent of her fart. His eyes widened in shock, but he couldn't move as she leaned in closer, allowing him to feel the warmth of her breath on his face.



The second woman approached, her fart even more potent than the first. Olavo tried to hold his breath, but she grabbed his face and forced him to inhale. He gagged on the putrid stench, but she didn't relent. She stood over him, her ass in the air, daring him to try and escape.



The third and final woman stepped forward, her fart strong enough to make Olavo's eyes water. She stood tall, her fists on her hips, daring him to resist. Slowly, she lowered herself down, her ass hovering just above his face. And then she released a torrent of hot, stinking gas that engulfed him entirely.



As the women watched, Olavo struggled to breathe, his body shaking with the intensity of their assault. But they were in control, and they reveled in his suffering. They circled around him, their high heels clicking against the floor, their farts filling the room like a symphony.



And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The women stood back, their hands on their hips, surveying the damage they had done. Olavo lay on the floor, whimpering softly, his entire being overwhelmed by the smell of their farts.



Slowly, the women walked away, leaving him there, defeated and humiliated. But they were satisfied. They had shown him who was in charge, and they had done it with style and grace. As they left the room, they could still hear his whimpers echoing behind them, a testament to their power and dominance.

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