Where does all that liquid come from? Clash! Xnxx sex Clash! Clash! You walk me into the lighted area, shove me up against the fence, facing it, and make me hook my hands into the metal. You drive us back to the park, which is completely empty. You’re not laughing or even smiling. Where does all that liquid come from? My face is against the fence. I’m dizzy from the absolute freakiness of it. I notice you’re not drinking nearly as much as I am. A whole new gush of fluid is released and splashes back onto you and you grunt, pleased. Clash! You’ve been really freaky lately, and we’ve done some incredibly risky stuff. My throat feels empty without the chain’s constriction and your cock inside it. Being able to let that go for a moment–to have someone else control even when I get to breathe–is surprisingly freeing. So much cum. As I wash up, I decide I’m ready for whatever you throw at me tonight, and I hope you come up with something fucking crazy. Clash! Being able to let that go for a moment–to have someone else control even when I get to breathe–is surprisingly freeing. Then I think about how women can cry for hours.
