Black Blowing and Jacking off my Friend Stockings
The wardrobe behind her, the bed to the right of her, and to her left, the wall containing the door and against which was the dresser with her phone and Mason’s can. “Whose hands?” she thought, hiding in the blackness of her tight-shut eyes Babe. His hand was hurting her breast as he squeezed it and she was squirming, telling him he was hurting her, telling him not to hurt her.
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