Janet Mason

Call me a hopeless romantic, but nothing soaks my pussy faster than getting handsy in public. Slap on top the sight of my mouth locked with some fresh young Black stud and it's a full-on party downstairs, and only Black dick gets the invite. Took me years, but I finally landed on Flash Brown and the tree trunk he's hiding under those shorts. We took things inside, spared my redneck neighbors the heart attack, kicked off my clothes, and let him drink in those heavy tits swinging in his face. Once he showed proper respect, we kicked it up—he leaned back while I worked on getting that fat dick past my teeth. My usual white guys came packing drinking straws, so this was a whole different game. I got him steel-hard and dripping, then spread for him. Took a slow breath, eased down, inch after inch, until I bottomed out and my lips kissed the root. His cock spread me wide; felt like giving birth to Black meat and I came like a freight train. He held back the first big load until he could paint my face, and he didn't miss a spot.