Misty Vonage

Day off from the bullshit meetings and I'm already wet just thinking about getting stretched by thick black cock. Scanned that beach like a predator hunting for dark meat in the water. These young brothers stay ripped while the white dudes just float around like sad balloons. Nothing in the surf today though. Then I spot these two talking shit to each other—tight bodies, young faces—and I decide I'm gonna be the creamy middle of that dark sandwich. Worked my charm, had them wrapped around my finger in seconds, and next thing I know we're headed straight to my place. Clothes hit the floor fast. They hit me with their names—Machine and Derek Skeeter—but I didn't need their resumes. Wanted them balls-deep and calling me every name they knew. Nothing on the corporate schedule beats this kind of interracial pounding. They fucked me like they knew I was starving for it. One after the other, switching holes, keeping me full, while I came until my legs stopped working. That's what real time off looks like.