I control to stop you, just before you push your already rock hard trunk inbetween my lips - I explain to you that there's a difference inbetween taking what you want - anytime and anyplace - and accepting a chick's suggest. . It seems as tho' you've taken our earlier converse to heart, and have come back here to test your new-found assertiveness on your Counselor. Making my eyes rip as I cough and fight on your man-meat. Every time I control to free my throat of your spear, I attempt to explain that this is not the way to go about getting your fuckpole inhaled. I open my facehole, stick out my tongue, and invite you to pack your schlong in there. When you seize my hair, stroking my head back and squirting a ample fountain of jizm from my forehead to my chin I tell you, in no unassured terms, that you're going to have to find another Fury Management Counselor.
Finally, I determine that the 'healthiest thing' for you is to let you do what you came here to do. You are beyond hearing my words. Leaning over, I don't observe you come in, and before I know it you've grappled me to my knees and taken your bone out. Sans the suggest, you could get yourself into giant grief. ! The more rationally I try to speak with you, the tighter you tear up my face.
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