Then she turned and lied down with her head towards me. My hand was under her head, my fingers covered by her hair. People write poems on beautiful ha...r (zulfen) but I was really feeling them. The warmth of those silky hair was radiating to my somewhat cold hand. I knew she was not asleep and there was no attempt by her to remove her head away from my hand. My hand was still somewhat cold, though it had held her warm breast two hours and forty seven minutes ago. Should I dare and move it on her. I’m the one getting fucked up the arse in the public woods by a complete stranger, whose name I don’t even know. And I’m being watched by a black guy with his cock in his hands, who’s just seen me shoot my load in front of him. Realising that he’s been seen, the African steps out of the bushes, still pumping away at his thick cock, then stands in front of him. He can see the smooth ebony knob, slick with pre-cum, hovering in front of his face. Then without a word the African ejaculates all over. More

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