I saw him raise his glass towards me and figured I would take a chance with him. "My name is Carmen" I said to him as I sat down at his table. "Sam's...mine" he replied. When I got comfortable, "What'll you have?" he asked me and I knew he meant a drink, but I was so hyped up that I looked at him directly, "Your cock" I answered, not sure of I what I was letting myself in for. I saw him smile a little and then he leaned closer to me, "Not too forward are you honey?" he said to me as he moved his. She was an artist, an sculpture critiquing her own work. Was the thickness uniform? Was the texture perfect? Was the color of her shit good enough for such an art work? Could she have rotated her ass a little faster while the shit fell on Mansi to do a better shape? Could she have kept the logs inside her for a longer duration? She was making mental notes of all these finer things. She took a finger in her mouth, lubricated it with her saliva and pushed it effortlessly in her behind. When she. More

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