
driving her around in circles and causing her significant delays. Who knows, maybe it's my buddy Jon. All I know is that she's late, which is a pet peeve of mine that irritates me. Then she talks about how she wants to be a real model, not a porno model. Well, she was in good shape, but there were no catwalk jobs available here, love, only a great old con. Then she goes on about how she's broke, so I'm no heartless jerk and make her a bargain. I'll pay her bus fare home if she goes through an interview with me. Fair is fair, I reasoned. So she takes off her clothes... What a gorgeous physique, tanned, tits, and a huge arse, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Stunner. But, as I would soon discover, a real pain in the neck. The cringing, shuffling, sighing, and chuckling did my fucking bonce in. My cock was the simple solution to this problem. She turned into a lusty little vixen as soon as her lips wrapped over it. With the best of them, sucking and deep throating. Then it was into her pussy, which was such a tight tiny pussy that each stroke felt like sliding into pink bliss. The white brigade rang the alarm after I fucked her in a few of my favorite positions, and I couldn't hold it off any longer. Straddled her chest, she unleashed a torrent of white lines across her face, mouth, and, yes, the sofa. Seriously, the amount of spunk that covered her face and mouth was enough to put out London's great fire. Fact.
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