‘Are we going to refuel, sir?’ the crew chief inquired. ‘Negative, we’ve got a thousand pounds and I’d like to keep it that way. Rob, switch...FM2—the backup FM radio—to the Junkyard. Don’t touch FM1—it’s on the closest friendlies on the ground.’ Ryan sat in silence for almost a minute, listening to three radios at once, silencing Rob’s next question with a stern look and an open hand. ‘Junkyard ops, Dog double deuce, confirm the status of your alert fire team.’ ‘Junkyard one-five and a heavy. . yeesh). No doubt about it, the taste of creamy, salty semen was way better than the usually strong-odoured, sometimes fishy, pussy juice. One full load and I was addicted to man-cum. One text and I was addicted to black cock. One evening and I loved being on my knees. One taste of black cock and I was no longer straight. I kept sucking his cock after he quit coming, wanting to retrieve every last drop of cum and not sure what I was supposed to do once his juicy creamy cock left my lips. What. More

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