She shrugged, which I took to mean permission. I took off her jacket, and lifted up her shirt. She was wearing a bra, so I didn't see that much, but I...did see the damage. It wasn't broken, and it wasn't bleeding. It was just badly bruised. I told her as much."Small consolation," she muttered."If you don't mind my asking," I said, "Who was that guy?" My now ex-fiancé," she said, angrily.I sat down next to her, on a refrigerator, and put my arm around her. The girl needed comfort. I call her a. Mitchell then sat fully on my face as he said, “I just love it when white men and women lick, suck and rim my sweaty asshole for me. That’s about the nastiest thing we could have you do. Go on, Greg, let me feel your tongue in my hole.”It’s hard for me to describe how turned on I was being pressed under him like that and sucking his asshole while being almost smothered by his sweaty ass cheeks. I didn't only taste his ass, but all the sweat and fuck slop that had run down there from an evening. More

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