“Ohhhhhh God.” Cheryl groaned behind her hood as the second shot hit her. All the while the vibrator just kept on humming. Her thighs were alread... shaking, the metal chain between the three clamps swinging from side to side. “Fuck, God, p-pleaase….” Her hips bucked, though she wasn’t even sure if she wanted the dildo removed or to be able to ride it. Her arms ached in their bonds, her hands curling in and out of fists with each shock. The ride seemed to last for days for poor Cheryl, though. They are unforgettable because of something unique about the blow job recipient, the location, or the results. She has fond memories of the guy in this story. She refers to as “the big cummer.”One warm spring evening my wife was sitting on a bench studying by herself in a small park-like area behind her dorm. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt without a bra.While she was reading, she was surprised by a guy you approached her and said, “Hi.”He was in her English Literature class and she had. More

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