“And then I do this.”She tugged and his zipper slid down most of the way down. He was wearing briefs. She tried to work them down enough to reach ...n and grasp his erection, but it didn’t work. He was too hard for her to be able to manipulate him. All she could do was touch the hot flesh of his shaft with her fingertips.“In my fantasy I’m supposed to be able to pull it out, because you don’t have to go to the bathroom to make it go away.” She looked up at him. “I help you.”“Damn,” he. Imagine her surprise when she returned home and saw what she had actually captured. Emerill took one look at the photos and wanted to shit himself. He sat there on Annette's couch in her family room with a look of dismay on his face, and said: 'What the fuck do you want from me you blood sucking bitch?'From that day on he and Annette fucked and sucked in every way she dared to dream. It was usually on Wednesdays, and Emerill hated every minute of it. It was bad enough that he had to have sex. More

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