Parker tag’s my boyfriend on his right bulky shoulder and says, “My turn.”
Rook pulls away from me, removes his shaft from my middle, and says, “I’m not done with you yet, man. You always make me hard.”
Parker takes up a space between my legs, strums his plastic-coated d**k with one palm, falls on his knees, and presses his seven inches of d**k inside my center.
The man bangs me with unstoppable speed, holding my thighs apart. Slam after slam, rough bolts providing pleasure. Parker is like one of his zoo animals during mating season: hectic and sloppy, without any cadence whatsoever.
“Overtop me,” he says, “This is what you want. This is what you need,” and continues his hip-blasts until Jimmy is ready to use his Irish ten-inch d**k on my bottom.
I rock my head back and forth under Ji
