It couldn’t be called a kiss. It was a devouring, a feast of the senses, and Tristan was helpless against it. Damon lifted him to his toes, pressing...his thick, jeans-covered erection against his as he gave him a taste of the hunger to come with his kiss.Tristan couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want to breathe.For that fraction of time, it was just the two of them, and Tristan gave himself completely to Damon. His kiss was like rough velvet and summer lightning. His taste was dark, heady. Tristan. Heals and white stockings i was hot i thought. as i got down stairs i saw my wife in the middle of the room being slow fucked on her side by a black guy and a huge black cock. she saw me and shook visably and hissed eat my clit panty boy while his black dick slides in and out . as i lowered my head to her clit she said is this what my friends did to you today. and i said yes mistress yes i just kept eating while she fucked this other guy right in front of me i was totaly ashamed. just then a. More

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