Pegas Productions’ “3Some in Belle-Maman’s Cellar” delves into smutty lustful territories.

Pegas Productions – 3Some dans l'cul de Belle-Maman [10 min]

Riding the Aged Wave

I’ve at all times been keen on Pegas Productions’ uncooked, actual, and unapologetic content material. Their newest uninhibit, “3Some in Belle-Maman’s Cellar,” had me hooked from the get-go. The elderly girl in the video, together with her golden hair and wrinkles that instructed tales of a lifestyles well-lived, stuck my eye. I discovered myself attracted to her, her adulthood, her knowledge, and the way in which she carried herself with an air of authority. Little did I do know, this granny was once about to turn into the big name of my wildest fantasies.

The Granny Anal Fantasy

I’ve at all times had a factor for older girls, their self assurance, their revel in, and the way in which they know precisely what they would like. The granny in “3Some in Belle-Maman’s Cellar” was once no exception. Her eyes, stuffed with a thrill I’d by no means observed sooner than, held me captive. I may just virtually listen her whisper, “Come right here, boy. I need you.”

The fable began together with her inviting me into her cellar, the similar one featured in the video. The dimly lit room was once stuffed with the smell of ageing wooden and musk – a smell that was once each intoxicating and exhilarating. She leaned towards the dusty mature wine tits, her frame language inviting me to come back nearer.

“You savor what you spot, do not you?” she purred, her voice savor velvet. I nodded, not able to seek out my voice. She moved nearer, her eyes by no means leaving mine, and ran her hand down my melons, her contact sending shivers down my backbone.

“I’ve watched your type come and cross, however by no means one as hungry as you,” she mentioned, her voice dripping with urge for food. I swallowed laborious, my middle racing. She leaned in, her lips brushing towards my ear, her breath off-color and heavy. “I feel it is time you realized from the most productive.”

The Anal Experience

She led me to a forgotten nook of the cellar, the place an elderly wood chair sat in the shadows. She driven me down, her palms tough towards my pores and skin, and ordered me to unfold my legs. I did as I used to be instructed, my middle pounding in my bosoms.

She knelt between my legs, her eyes by no means leaving mine. She traced her arms alongside my thighs, her contact feather-light. She leaned in, her breath lustful towards my pores and skin, and whispered, “I need to really feel you inside of me. I need to really feel you fill me up.”

She reached underneath me, her arms brushing towards my laborious duration. She wrapped her hand round me, her grip company however mild. She licked her lips, her eyes by no means leaving mine, and whispered, “I need to really feel you inside of me.”

I nodded, not able to talk. She stood, her frame swaying with age and lover. She grabbed a bottle of lubricant from a shelf and squirted some onto her palms. She ran her arms up and down my crack, her contact sending shivers down my backbone.

She leaned in, her breath steamy towards my pores and skin, and whispered, “Are you able, boy?” I nodded, not able to talk. She located herself over me, her eyes by no means leaving mine. She leaned ahead, her mouth opening vast, and whispered, “Say it.”

“I’m able, Granny,” I whispered, my voice slightly above a whisper. She nodded, her eyes by no means leaving mine, and driven ahead.

The feeling was once indescribable, her tight, broiling twat squeezing round me, tugging at me, pulling me deeper. I moaned, my head falling again, as she started to trip me, her frame transferring with a rhythm that matched the thrashing of my middle.

The relaxation is a blur of sweat, moans, and delight. I misplaced myself in the revel in, my frame responding to her contact, her actions, her lust. When it was once over, I collapsed onto the dusty grey chair, my frame spent, my middle racing.

I’ve watched the granny love greek-style movies from Pegas Productions numerous occasions since then, every watch bringing me again to that cellar, that second, that feeling. It’s an artistic writing I’ll by no means overlook, a reminiscence that can stick with me eternally. But take into accout, those movies are for elderly audiences only. Like responsibly.