Ebony Pussy
I hugged her from behind, running my hands over her firm tits and down under her skirt to her hot little cunt. Chapter 3
Ebony Pussy s go, I commanded the drunken straight girl. Hey, it s not the first time I took advantage of a woman s sobriety, or lack thereof. Look, I don t have time for all the bullshit, I began as I grabbed Pinky s hand and led it towards my package, My dick is bigger, harder and better than theirs, and I want to take you home and fuck you. Mmm, you smell good. What is that? she asked in a glazed, drunken slur. Old Spice, I snarled at her. Oh man-o-man, I was going to fuck this one silly. Pinky, Patti.Ebony Pussy
Precious was going to know my dick and my cunt very soon. Hey Pinky, she turned towards me. Shit, she s cute. My name s Patti, Patti Precious, she was bombed out of her gourd as she tried to act indignant at my calling her pinky . No...fucking...way, I guffawed at the little blonde slut. Maybe a year or so ago, my girlfriend and I picked her up at the Butterfly, a soft lezzy bar. Oh yeah, hi...um. Zoe. Zoe, yeah, nice to see you again, I was polite, but my interests clearly lay in little miss pink angora, and thankfully Zoe caught-on quickly... Sure, Free Teen Pussy he sulked away with his Bud Light. Makers Mark with a Fat Tire back, I told the bartender, who was laughing at sweater-vest boy running towards the other end of the bar with his tail between his legs. He started to say something, but when you re a wimpy-assed white boy (C mon, give me a break...a fucking sweater vest?) and you re suddenly confronted with a six foot tall, crew-cutted, stanky, blue jean-wearing dyke with an attitude problem.Ebony Pussy
I thought as I drew my sights on the pussy sitting at the bar; all lined-up like ducks at a shooting gallery, That s why! And THAT was a little cutie sitting about mid way down the bar. She looked half drunk, and was a serious girly-girl. The bar was creepy as hell: bad pick-up lines blended with cheap perfume and cheaper, fruity cologne to create an atmosphere of suburban desperation and broken, white-picket-fence dreams. Why the fuck am I here? From the cute and college girls waiting tables, to the desperate young worker bees out looking for love from some guy, the place was chock-full-o -cunt. So here I am, a butch forty-six year-old dyke entering the great bastion of mallscape singles bars.
He was about to say so, when Cindy changed her position. She leaned forward and grabbed the headboard of the bed, the rose up on the tips of her toes. The new position allowed her to use her weight to power her strokes, and she began to really lay into His ass.