.his cock sucker?' No way was my son gay.The black guy asked again, "Were you supposed to be my cock sucker?"After a few seconds, which seemed like an...eternity, my son admitted, "Yes, sir."The black man roared again as he pulled his cock out of my mouth and asked, "So you really haven't been a cock sucker before today?"I couldn't look at my son as I admitted, mimicking my son's mode of address, "No, sir." But you are now," the black teen said.Oddly, as I looked at the big juicy black cock, as I. “What are you doing, husband?” I asked as his hands grabbed my skirt.“You look a little nervous,” he said. “While I think you need to glow.”Greta giggled beside me. “Master, you are going to ruin her dress.”He drew up the satin skirt. It rustled and shifted over my petticoats. I shivered, the heat growing in my pussy. That molten passion swelled. My hands clenched as he exposed more and more of the lacy petticoats beneath.“Let me help, Master,” Greta said. She moved up before me, her own skirts. More

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