It had no sidewalks, and was flanked by no consumer-oriented stores or places of employment. It connected to US 90, forty miles to the west, but those...who traveled it eastward were seldom Onteora bound. At a distance the girl was ordinary-looking: medium height, a broad-shouldered but bosomy build, shoulder-length blonde hair. She was probably in her early twenties. She wore a heavy wool sweater, blue jeans, and work boots. A shabby satchel of modest size dangled from her right hand. Her walk. It was long too, close to eight inches. He was working my dick too."Fuck you are hung" I said to him. "I want to admire you".I pushed away from him and went to the far side of the room. I sat on the floor with my back to the wall. I said to him "I want you to make like you are Tyson Beckford. Do the catwalk thing and show me that big swinging dick."He humored me and walked up and down like a model, but naked and erect. His stature made his thick cock seem huge by proportion. I would have to. More

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