I have a hazy image of his arm dropping to his side and the whip dropping to the ground as he stepped back, staring at me. But I could have invented t...at. On the other hand, I must have been putting on some show. I don’t remember screaming, but judging by the volume of my groans and grunts and cries on any Saturday night, and by how my throat felt the next day, I’d say I must have been pretty vocal. And there were the spasms that kept wracking my body. They seemed to explode from my sex, swell. And other hands played with my nipples, tugging on them, pinching, making me whimper around the sticky cock in my mouth. Then they were both kneeling before me, as I licked and sucked them both back to erection. My hands stroking along those wonderful ebony rods, lips, tongue and mouth sucking and lapping in coordination with my fingers. Their veiny uncut members growing as I showed full appreciation with my oral ministrations. I was slobbering over these thick black fuckpoles as they talked. More

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