She didn’t know why humiliation always made her wet, but it did. The more worthless he made her feel, the harder she tried to please him, to earn so...e small acknowledgement that she wasn’t completely worthless. Her fingers toyed with her clit, even if she was desperately trying to peel off Dustin’s socks with her teeth. She was almost ready to cum as her tongue began to play over the arch of his foot. Bridgette worked her tongue between each toe, sucking them as if they were a row of tiny. “Oh!” Pet screams. “Oh!” Then, “It’s happening again!”Again she tightens, her hand moving between her legs. A great wail comes out of her, sounding like a wounded animal, seeming to go on forever. There are streaks of sperm on her back where her husband has spurted. He’s standing there with drops of spunk dripping from his member, staring at his seemingly insatiable wife as if I can’t believe his eyes.“Shall I do it again, Cuck?” I ask. “Shall I cum in your wife? Shall I spunk her horny fucking. Still, it gets a bit monotonous when that's all the messages said, especially when they didn't lead to some hot fucking.What made this one really stand out was that the guy had clearly read all my profile, even the extra bits linked to, and he was responding to a fantasy I'd put on another page. Apparently he also had similar fantasies about crossdressing, and after exchanging a few horny messages we arranged to meet. He lived in a town not far from my university, and although I was home on. Earl was the "prideful" one. He loved everything about himself. Vain didn't even begin to describe how he felt about himself. He looked down at others in a very vainglorious manner. He felt he was the best, the strongest, the handsomest, and the most popular, even though it was obvious to others he wasn't. Earl once threw a blow at a man who had the gall (Earl though it was gall) to tell him "You're not God, Earl." He always insisted on being the center of attention in a room. Being with.