Busty Non Shirahana Groped And Raped By Perverted Old Man Next Door: The air was thick with tension as Non Shirahana stepped into the dimly lit alley, her heart pounding. She had always been aware of the lingering gazes from the perverted old man next door, but tonight, his presence felt heavier, more suffocating. His eyes traced the curves of her body, lingering on the swell of her big tits beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. She tried to ignore the way his breath hitched when she adjusted her collar, but the heat in his stare was undeniable. A sudden brush of his fingers against her arm sent a jolt through her—his touch was rough, possessive. “You’ve been teasing me for too long,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. Before she could protest, his hands were on her, groping her breasts with a hunger that made her knees weak. The friction of his calloused palms against her sensitive skin sent waves of shame and pleasure crashing through her. She wanted to push him away, but the way he squeezed her nipples, pinching them just enough to make her gasp, had her body betraying her. His lips found her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin as he whispered filthy promises. “I know you want this,” he murmured, his fingers slipping beneath her skirt. The wetness between her thighs was undeniable, her body responding to his crude advances despite her mind screaming in protest. When he pushed her against the wall, his cock pressing into her hip, she could feel the heat of his need. “Let me show you how a real man fucks,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire. The moment his fingers slid inside her, she arched into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The pleasure was overwhelming, a twisted mix of guilt and ecstasy as he worked her body with ruthless precision. When he finally pushed inside her, filling her with his thick length, she moaned—not in protest, but in surrender. The way he pounded into her, his hips slapping against her ass, sent sparks of pleasure through her core. His grunts filled the air, each thrust deeper, harder, until she was trembling on the edge. “Take it all,” he snarled, his grip on her hips bruising. The moment he spilled inside her, his hot seed flooding her tight walls, she shuddered, her own climax crashing over her in waves. As he pulled away, leaving her breathless and trembling, she knew this wouldn’t be the last time. The line between disgust and desire had blurred, and now, she craved his touch as much as she feared it. The abuse had become an addiction, one she couldn’t escape.
