At the very least I hoped I could get an orgasm out of it. Why couldn’t I also lust after him? Black porn “Please!” I sobbed. It was long, hard, filling me up. I started sobbing in relief; Marshal wasn’t angry with me. I started sobbing in relief; Marshal wasn’t angry with me. “Seriously,” I whispered, and gave a hiss of frustration. The asshole didn’t bother to tell me I had a post-it note stuck to my cheek until a coworker ripped it off. He fell to the floor and my husband kicked him in the balls. I dropped a pen into my pen-cup, my pussy got wet; I poured cream into my coffee, white like his cum; I popped a quarter into the vending machine, into that slot, picturing his cock pushing into my tight slot. “That’s the cock I love.
