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The pre-cum was oozing out more than I’ve ever seen.I sat up higher and brought my tits up to rubbing my big nipples all over his cock teasing each ...ipple while at the same time teasing his cock using some of those drops of precum to lubricate my nipples. I took his cock by the base with my thumb and first two fingers and with my other hand held out one of my tits. I used his cock like a hammer to slap my nipples like I would be driving in a nail with firm slaps. He smiled at me as I looked at. The rain was coming down really hard and fast. Jason was late and not by few minutes or by an hour or so but late for over 3 hours by now. The road traffic was slow and blocked for miles if not totally stopped. Finally, he decided to stop at a truck stop near Princeton Junction for the late supper. Getting off the truck, he hustled inside as quickly as he could and shook the rain water off him and got seated in a booth, ordering a house special; half pounder beef sandwich with black coffee. He. ..I am always so nervous before a hook up...its been so long I was worried it would hurt my big tight ass or worse...I am sitting in my chair in the dark , thinking about how badly I need some cock , I start to play with my now hard cock stroking it to the point of cumming and then stopping...I do this several times and I hear a light tapping on my garage door , I have to try hard to not cum as I get very excited...I open the door , see him come inside and I close the door behind him . I am. More spanks across both cheeks sets your ass on fire. Between each spanks the man plays with your pussy, you feel his fingers trace your lips and at times his cock rubs your clit. The shift between pleasure and pain is driving you crazy as you try to grind your hips into him.He chuckles moving the head of cock up and down your slit. “Sure changed your mind didn’t we? Good cause I’m ready for mine.”He grabs your hips and thrusts in hard as you feel your pussy stretched. His balls slap against.

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Caldwell only. So I did what I do best I tuned out and followed. ‘Jane.’ His accent caressed my name. ‘Hmmm?’ ‘Were you listening to a thi...g I’ve said in the last 5 minutes.’ ‘No. Sorry I didn’t know you were talking to me.’ The look he gave would’ve had a lesser woman quivering in her boots and being the lesser but stubborn woman that I am I held his gaze and even glared a little. I was awarded a smirk for my efforts and a look that promised retribution. The private dressing rooms were all. Anywhere except Gwinnett County, Georgia.Next morning, I drove from Norfolk to Baltimore, with all my worldly goods back in the CR-V. They had a nice set of home uniforms ready for me when I arrived – my name already neatly sewed onto the back above the number “52”.I wondered what famous players had ever worn number 52. None, probably.The Orioles’ manager, Paul Warren, met me at my new locker and shook my hand. “When you’re dressed, come by my office,” he said.I had heard good things about. More

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