After an initial struggle and manhandling she stopped resisting, accepting her fate. Cervantes couldn’t admit he was pleased, he was hoping the general would have a little more fight in her but that didn’t mean he would lower his guard around her. His attention did shift to the fine, suddenly feminine curve to her backside and despite the occasional scar marring her porcelain skin, she was still very much a beauty. His hand wrapped around his thick swelling flesh, a few strokes needed before he was pressing himself against the folds of her pussy.<br/><br/>He paused to spit into his hand, stroking his flesh. Cervantes was no fool, she was not a willing participant nor did he expect her body to welcome him. With a thrust that ripped a grunt from his own lungs he invaded her in one deep stroke before pulling out and spitting back down between them in order to do it again. An erratic and uneven rhythm began to form as he used her body for his own pleasure. His hands gripped at her hips as he slammed himself into her again and again. As the penetration became easier, for him at least, he increased the pace until his thighs slapped against her ass loudly, forcing her body to take the full impact against the wood desk.<br/>