Flower Tucci

My deadbeat husband pushed me into a county gig as a process server. This morning I rolled up on Cuntree Pipes, fresh ex-con, with his partner Ice Cold looking like he might piss himself. I was two seconds from calling for backup when my neglected Cougar pussy started throbbing. Hadn’t had young black dick in forever, so why waste the moment? Those two let me drop to my knees right there. I relaxed my jaw and took both thick ebony poles down my throat like it was nothing. They fucked like men just out of lockup—raw, hard, like they hadn’t touched a wet hole in years. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was they painted me with heavy ropes of black cum, the kind of load you only earn when you ditch the badge and spread for prime dick.