“Ohhh Fuckkkkk!,” is all could say, and I said that over and over and over again. He kept giving me a delicious tongue bath as I was approaching y...t another cum. “Fuck me! Put it in now! Fuck me Steve,” I panted. “Now babe?” he said as he lifted me from the bed and ball and turned me onto my stomach on top of the ball. “Now Steve, now!” I spat as he drove his cock deep inside me. I looked up and grabbed a horizontal cross bar of the weight machine for stability. The ball was beneath my. PJ had found out quite a bit about the record label that he hadn't let on during our phone conversation. They were a decent sized Jazz/Blues/Folk label based in the centre of Paris. The head of Cypres Records, Sylvain Dutronc was a thin be speckled man with a ponytail and an absolute music fanatic. In his early forties Dutronc had grown up around music, his uncle being the legendary French troubadour Jacques Dutronc. Sylvain it turned out was a huge fan of American blues music, particularly. A bitch picked it up and went to hide it so I couldn't escape."hey!" I said to her. The guy put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down wards.I crouched open legged in front of him as he undid his pants and took out his cock in front of my face.O nice.well why not? That was what I was here for.I parted my painted lips and took his cock into my warm mouth.His dick slid along my tongue as I held onto his legs.He moaned." ahh baby! yes!"A bitch poped her head round the open door and. ’ ‘Say it, Jon.’ ‘Ida, I need you.’ He rolled his hips up. Her hands paused. ‘No, what you said last night.’ Ida looked desperate. ‘He never says it.’ ‘I love you, Ida,’ Jon said between gritted teeth as her hand began to move faster, nails scrapping the sensitive flesh. He drew air in through his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose. He reached his hand under her skirt, fingering her. He ripped her shorts off, panties and all and threw them into a pile. Her shirt and bra were next. He was.