The morning after the full moon public offering dawned bright and warm over the village. Anjali woke up in the central temple chamber, her voluptuous body utterly spent yet already tingling with fresh need. She lay naked on the silk sheets, her fair-cream skin still sticky and glazed with dried cum from dozens of loads the night before. Thick, crusty white streaks decorated her massive D-cup breasts, her flat stomach, and the insides of her thick thighs. Her puffy pink pussy and well-used asshole remained slightly open, slowly leaking a steady trickle of mixed village seed onto the bed. Her long raven-black hair was a messy, cum-matted halo around her angelic yet slutty face. Her thick chocolate-brown nipples were sore and swollen from endless sucking and pinching.

Anjali stretched languidly, a soft, needy moan escaping her full lips as she ran her hands over her cum-covered body. I’m not a bride anymore, she thought, sliding two fingers into her sloppy cunt and stirring the mess inside. I’m the village whore. And I love it. My holes feel empty without cocks stretching them... I need to be used all day, every day.