Johnson’s shrewd eyes roamed over the rest of hismerry, messy band of fucking and sucking cummers,confident that they could handle the wayward women...ofBoob Hill. He tucked his own purple-knobbed fuck-stickback into his trousers, saving his juice for the personalchallenge that lay ahead – a high-poon showdown with thedangerous, money and man-lusting proprietress of BoobHill, Chesty Laflemme.Come the crack of dawn, Johnson rose up on his hind legsand stretched, felt his manhood to ensure it was. “Ye-..Yes,” she said, answering both the voiced and the unvoiced question.The machine gave another startling rumble, halted, and the water audibly gurgled out through the other hose even as the machine started up again.“Good,” he said, again meaning everything at once.Then the vibration changed its pitch and he moved his body just so, moving her smaller body right along with his, and suddenly she felt as if she was a tuning fork, struck at just the right note. All of her body hair pricked and. More

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