The offense was better than I had faced so far, but nothing better than I hadn’t had to defend against before, although I thought that Patrick had a...better offense than either of these two.I was able to watch Patrick’s next bout, he overcame his opponent with ease, making his way into the semifinal in his half of the draw.My semifinal came up about an hour later, this allowed us to have as much rest time between rounds as possible. This was to ensure we were in the best fighting condition. I put mine on. M walks in front of me and faces the TV. She bends over exposing her round tanned ass. I take some baby oil in my hands and rub all over her ass and spread her cheeks and rub my oiled finger all around her asshole. I feel my cock straining against my jeans and it fells so good. I bury my face in M's ass and lick her asshole and lick all up and down her crack. I look over at T and he's pulled his cock out and it's all shiny and hard. I reach over and slowly touch his cock,. It was rare, for a twenty-year-old kid to be a harpooner. But I’d grown up in New Bedford, where whaling was a religion, and it was in my blood from the time I was a wee lad. Like most little boys, I wanted to be just like my old man. He was captain of the Cicero, a huge fellow with fierce blue eyes and a weathered face. I never really knew him. He was away all the time. But I shared his love of adventure.He’d given me a toy harpoon when I was young. I think somebody whittled it out of. Emma could still see the screen past Matt’s hips, and as his cock burst its load down her throat, she watched the pony do the same to Vanessa. The volume of spunk was enormous, and where as Emma easily swallowed Matt’s, the pony cum filled Vanessa’s throat, then her mouth, then when she could take no more, splashed out of her mouth, down her chin, and over her leather top. Matt withdrew from Emma’s throat, and grinning wildly began to push the wine bottle as far as he could into her pussy. He.