A losing battle can't be without the victor taunting at the fallen “Let me taste your yummy cum sir! Plaster this dirty whore with your seed master!...�� with a grunt and a sad stroke to finish on her deserving face. The ropes landing on cheeks, across eyelids, the hair but mainly the lips and chin.She looks up at him with her usual happy expression, during which she licks up his defeated spilling on her closed eyelids “So are done sir?” She asks, unaware how broken his pride as a man was, he of. Now, not only was someone else touching me, but it waspotentially going to be sent to thousands of households.I looked at the male model with admiration for his form. He was aperfect masculine specimen. The type of man I could never be nor wantedto be. I felt inadequate next to him though, as if I didn't belong nextto him. In truth, men like him didn't go for girls that looked like me.Maybe that was part of the advertising trick. The boutiques' clientalwas mostly women, so they figured they'd. More

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