Servant Boy Helps For Divorce
- 4 years ago
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If He Ever Gets A Divorce... free porn video
Joe could be an ass. Many people thought so. Actually, he’d only recently gotten off the phone with his wife.
“Why are you being a dick,” she’d yelled into the phone.
“I’m busy right now, Kristy,” he’d replied firmly. “I gotta go.”
“She really wants to go to SCAD or RISD. Why are you acting like this?”
“Did she get a full-ride scholarship at either of those places I know nothing about?”
“You know she hasn’t. You’re being…”
“A dick. I know,” his face reddened. We’re not shelling out 40 to 50 grand a year when she could go to U.R.I. or R.I.C. for way less. They have the same major. I gotta go!”
The juvenile unit prosecutor ended the call, stood from his desk, threw his laptop into his toffee leather satchel, and put on his suit jacket. It fit more snug than usual. He made a note to hit the gym a little harder going forward. The six-foot-one man with ash-brown hair had a dad bod, but no one would describe him as out of shape. He just didn’t have the same physique as when he played baseball in high school or when he was in the Navy. His chest was still defined and hardy; his stomach had the slightest hint of a pudge.
He hefted a heavier overcoat onto his shoulders and left his office. He was about to be late for a conference. The 45 year-old father of three rushed to his meeting.
“So nice of you to join us, Mr. Connolly,” the family court judge sneered.
“My apologies, Your Honor,” Joe offered.
“Well,” the annoyed woman pushed up her glasses. “Let’s get on with it.”
Joe, of course, represented the State of Rhode Island. The k** charged had a small team of people with him. He recognized two of them - the public defender and the social worker. He’d worked with them many times before. The others were unfamiliar. He pegged the two women he didn’t know as probably a grandmother and an aunt or mom to defendant. The guy in the room seemed to not quite fit in with the others.
Introductions revealed it all. The other man was a volunteer in the special advocacy program.
Joe presented what he knew of the alleged crime. The 13 year-old was charged with arson in the 4th degree. The public defender offered up evidence of restitution the defendant was doing by working for the victim and shared the notes from the counseling sessions. The social worker and special advocate vouched for the young man too.
“Mr. Connolloy,” would the State be satisfied with a continuance.
“Yes, Your Honor,” the father of three replied. “Mr. Bradley has been sufficiently working towards the atoning for this matter.”
“Very well. I’m going to continue this for another 30 days. Adjourned,” she tapped her gavel,
Joe gathered his belongings and headed out the door. His normal gait was more like a sprint. By the elevators, heard someone calling out.
“Excuse me...Excuse me...Mr. Connolly!”
Joe turned around and saw the minikin special advocate running towards him.
When the fellow wearing a taupe sport coat over a peppermint green button-down shirt, dark wash skinny jeans, & tanned leather almond-toe Stacy Adams dress boots, he struggled to catch his breath. “Do you have a few minutes so we can catch up?”
“I’m not really able to discuss the case with you,” Joe deflected.
“Oh I know,” the Lilliputian guy with the rosy, light-olive complexion took a hit from his inhaler. “I’m not interested in talking about the case. I wanted to get your thoughts overall on the what a court appointed special advocate like me can do to help keep k**s out of the system. My name’s Hale. Shawn Hale.”
“Uh, sure. Joe Connolly,” the lawyer extended his hand.
“Buy you a cup of coffee?”
“WHy not? There’s a good spot across the street.”
Shawn put on a gray wool peacoat.
The two men walked out of the courthouse. The bitter wind bit at their faces and mocked their futile attempts to bundle up.
“Are you from here originally,” Shawn asked.
“Yes. I grew up here. What about you?”
“I grew up in Virginia.”
“What the hell made you move here?”
“Work.”
Inside the bustling cafe, they ordered warm beverages. Shawn went to swipe his card, but Joe insisted. “At least let the hometown boy take care of the first date,” he’d said.
“Suit yourself. I guess you’re already looking forward to the second date then,” Shawn teased.
“You never know,” chuckled Joe.
They took a seat. Shawn added two yellow packets of a sucralose artificial sweetener to his coffee. Apparently the attorney drank his black.
“So,” Joe started. “What do you wanna know?”
“I’m just curious to find out what you think is missing to keep young men and young Black men out of the system.”
“That’s easy. Don’t commit crime,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I know that, Mr. Connolly. What are the things that lead to the point of committing the crime? How do we prevent it?”
“I’m a former cop that worked my way through law school part-time. Now, I’m a prosecutor. Are you sure you want my opinion? In case you hadn’t noticed I’m also a white guy. So, I’m kinda the enemy, right?!?”
“I had noticed,” Shawn leaned forward. “And I don’t think you’re the enemy. What you did in court today tells me you care. And I see tons of humanity in those blue-gray eyes.”
Joe sat back and guffawed. His face blushed and he looked away.
“What’s so funny,” the shorter guy tilted his head.
“My bad,” he apologized still laughing.
“Come on now. What is it,” pressed Shawn. “Seriously.”
“Well, it’s just that everyone tells me I have BLUE eyes. Not even my wife notrices the gray in them.”
“What can I say? I’m observant. Why are you still laughing?”
“It’s kinda like a defense mechanism I guess. I’m not used to getting complimented.”
“Well, I’m going to need you to focus.”
“Okay,” Joe calmed down. “There’s a lot that can be different. I think a lot of it has to do with economics and parenting.”
“I agree with that.”
Over the next few minutes, they solved the entire juvenile justice problem in Providence.
“So, what is it that you do,” the family man inquired.
“Corporate finance.”
“Hang on a minute,” Joe held up a forefinger. He tapped his phone feverishly. He had a noticeable scowl. Het set down the device on the table. It made a thud.
“Bad news?”
“Just annoying is all.”
“Well, if you need to go…”
“No. You’re good. Sorry she interrupted us. You know how it is with women.”
“‘Fraid not. I’m gay if you couldn’t tell.”
“I try not prejudge. I have a brother that is, but he’s a bear I think they call it.”
“Oh okay,” giggled Shawn.
“No offense.”
“None taken,” the comptroller shared. “You’re a pretty laid back guy I see.”
“When I can. You guys have it all figured out. When they were talking about gay marriage I was like why the hell would anyone wanna do that?”
“Oh?”
“Yeah! But my brother got married and they’re happy. No nagging. If I ever get divorced, I’m marrying a femboi,” he grinned.
“That’s specific!”
“Yeah! I know. I like feminine energy. I could never do it with someone that’s hairy and scruffy like my brother. But someone soft & girly. Why not?”
“Someone like me,” Shawn batted his eyes.
“Actually, yeah! Someone just like you,” Joe admitted. “It’s real easy talking to you.”
“Yeah! You’re not bad.”
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“Okay…”
“Where’s your family from?”
“Virgina.”
“I mean your ancestry.”
“Well,” Shawn cleared his throat. “Can I get another cup of joe, Joe?”
“Yeah. I got you. We’re still on the first date after all,” he chortled. “Be right back!”
Joe returned and handed a cup to Shawn. He had a bottle of water for himself. “So what’s so drawn out about your family history.”
“Not really that drawn out. I’m mixed-ish,” the guy with caramel-brown locs said.
“Mixed-ish? Either you are or you aren’t,” Joe countered.
“Have you ever heard the term Melungeon?”
“No.”
“It was a derogatory term applied to some people in Virginia and Tennessee mountains in the 1700s & 1800s. They were folks that had intertwined bloodlines of African, Europen, & Native American. Some communities considered them white. Some didn’t. There was actually an order in Virginia that ordered my family be changed from white to Negro.”
“Wow! That is interesting. You ever do a DNA test,” Joe asked.
“Yeah I did!”
“What were your results?”
“50% Sub-Saharan Africa. 44% European. 6% Native American.”
“Anything you didn’t expect?”
“There was some from beyond West Africa. And I was 3% Norweigian. No idea.”
“That’s cool!”
“What about you?”
“Irish Catholic. Some German. I’ve been thinking about taking one of them.”
“You should.”
“Maybe I will,” Joe smirked.
“Well, I’d love to sample your DNA.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Only if it’s working.”
“I’m pretty attentive. And I could use it. My wife hasn’t given me any in two weeks.”
“Well, I’m available. Here’s my number. I better get going.”
Joe watched the nearly dwarf man sashay out the door. He felt it might seriously be time to try it.
A few days later, Joe contacted Shawn via text. He asked if they could watch the Pats play on Sunday. Shawn said sure and that he lived alone.
Game day arrived.
Joe showed up at Shawn’s. The host had prepared wings and nachos. And, there was plenty of beer. New England was ahead of the Titans 21 to 7 at the half.
Joe was not really interested in the game. He’d been much more taken with Shawn in those teeny, tiny shorts and pink cami. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been in months.”
“How so,” Shawn quizzed.
“I mean you’re laid back. And we’re just hanging. No arguments. Nothing like home.”
“That’s just the beer talking.”
“Nope. Beer’s got nothing to do with it. But, your ass sure does.”
“You like it,” Shawn hopped up and pranced over.
“Yeah,” smiled Joe as he put his large hands on the taut bubble. “Why are you in to me?”
“You’re nice and handsome!”
“You like my dad bod,” he chuckled.
“Yes, I do,” winked Shawn.
“Let’s see,” Joe stood. He scooped the petite effeminate being into his arms. “Where’s the bedroom.”
Shawn gestured down the hall.
Joe was a Keltic warrior - strong & mighty - carrying his alluring, chaste, & seductive pygmy as if the vixen were a captured bride. He placed Shawn on the bed gently. Shawn sat up. Joe held up his hand for Shawn to pause and he pushed the mutliracial cutie back down. He peeled the bright top down the torso and smooth legs. He traced the silken skin with his thumb. His pulse raced as he salivated. He wiggled the itty-bitty shorts off of Shawn too.
Joe flipped Shawn over and massaged the small booty. He kissed each cheek and nibbled them gently. He spread them apart and saw the clenched pink hole. “My god, you’re sexy!” He patted it with his finger then lowered his head to it. He licked slowly and stuck his tongue inside. He placed his whole mouth in the crack. He made love to it orally with meticulous care.
He could feel Shawn breathing intently. The sexy femme bottom purred & twitched, squirmed & cooed, hummed & wriggled. Joe drew much pleasure from this. He added a finger on occasion.
“Mmmmm,” Shawn moaned.
“You like that,” the man checked taking a quick break.
“Mmhmm,” confirmed the paramour.
Joe continued pleasuring his host.
Shawn loved the sensations going through his body. “Oh my god, Joe! I wanna taste you too.”
The married man got on his side. He kept eating Shawn’s booty hole.
Shawn pulled down the jeans and took out a juicy white cock that was every bit of eight inches. It was thick and uncircumsized. He put it in his mouth and worked his head in circles.
After a while, they were ready.
Joe climbed on top. He leaned down to nibble on Shawn’s neck. He slid his meat inside the pussy hole.
“Oh my god,” winced the special advocate.
“Oh yeah! You’re tight, baby,” Joe exhaled. “It feels great!”
“Give it to me, sexy!”
“You got it!”
Joe worked his hips cautiously getting every inch of his manhood into the rectum. He made it all the way to the hilt.
His hairy balls rested against Shawn’s taint. They had not felt the touch of another person’s backside in ages. They came to life and sent a signal to Joe’s brain. They told him they were alive and ready duty. They begged for a pounding. Joe’s brain explained they must wait. This would be a sensual savoring session.
Joe gave metered half-strokes. He pushed as deep as he could get.
Shawn whined as he took all of the taller, more brusque man. “It feels so good!”
“You like it?”
“Yes, sir! Oh my god!”
Joe took out more and more with each thrust. Soon, he was fucking Shawn with his full eight inches every time. “I want you on your back!”
Now, Joe looked into Shawn’s dark brown eyes. “You’re so fucking hot!” He piston fucked the hole.
“I love it,” Shawn wailed. “Fuck me! Fuck me harder.”
“That’s what you want?”
“I want it however you give it!”
“How about this, baby?”
Joe slammed into Shawn with incredible force.
“Yes! Yes! God yes,” shrieked the gnomish boi. “Fuck my sissy pussy!”
“Yeah! You like this big White cock in your sissy pussy?”
“Yes, sir!”
Joe hammered. Shawn whimpered.
“Fuck yeah, baby! Your pussy is perfect!”
“Gimme that dick! I love how you fuck me!”
“Yeah, gurl! Take this dick, femboi!”
Shawn gripped Joe’s sturdy back/
Joe groaned. He tensed. His buttocks tightened. His heart paused. “Arrrrrggggghhhhhhh!”
With that, Shawn was flooded with a river of cum.
Joe rolled onto his back.
As they lay there drenched and spent, they caught their breath.
Joe remarked, “If you were my wife I’d fuck you every day. You’d never have to work.”
“That’s sweet! I’d cook for you,” Shawn imagined.
“Not necessary. I’d take you out to eat every night. And buy you lingerie.”
“You think so?”
“I told you. If I ever get divorced, I’m marrying me a femboi. You just solidified it.”
“Why are you being a dick,” she’d yelled into the phone.
“I’m busy right now, Kristy,” he’d replied firmly. “I gotta go.”
“She really wants to go to SCAD or RISD. Why are you acting like this?”
“Did she get a full-ride scholarship at either of those places I know nothing about?”
“You know she hasn’t. You’re being…”
“A dick. I know,” his face reddened. We’re not shelling out 40 to 50 grand a year when she could go to U.R.I. or R.I.C. for way less. They have the same major. I gotta go!”
The juvenile unit prosecutor ended the call, stood from his desk, threw his laptop into his toffee leather satchel, and put on his suit jacket. It fit more snug than usual. He made a note to hit the gym a little harder going forward. The six-foot-one man with ash-brown hair had a dad bod, but no one would describe him as out of shape. He just didn’t have the same physique as when he played baseball in high school or when he was in the Navy. His chest was still defined and hardy; his stomach had the slightest hint of a pudge.
He hefted a heavier overcoat onto his shoulders and left his office. He was about to be late for a conference. The 45 year-old father of three rushed to his meeting.
“So nice of you to join us, Mr. Connolly,” the family court judge sneered.
“My apologies, Your Honor,” Joe offered.
“Well,” the annoyed woman pushed up her glasses. “Let’s get on with it.”
Joe, of course, represented the State of Rhode Island. The k** charged had a small team of people with him. He recognized two of them - the public defender and the social worker. He’d worked with them many times before. The others were unfamiliar. He pegged the two women he didn’t know as probably a grandmother and an aunt or mom to defendant. The guy in the room seemed to not quite fit in with the others.
Introductions revealed it all. The other man was a volunteer in the special advocacy program.
Joe presented what he knew of the alleged crime. The 13 year-old was charged with arson in the 4th degree. The public defender offered up evidence of restitution the defendant was doing by working for the victim and shared the notes from the counseling sessions. The social worker and special advocate vouched for the young man too.
“Mr. Connolloy,” would the State be satisfied with a continuance.
“Yes, Your Honor,” the father of three replied. “Mr. Bradley has been sufficiently working towards the atoning for this matter.”
“Very well. I’m going to continue this for another 30 days. Adjourned,” she tapped her gavel,
Joe gathered his belongings and headed out the door. His normal gait was more like a sprint. By the elevators, heard someone calling out.
“Excuse me...Excuse me...Mr. Connolly!”
Joe turned around and saw the minikin special advocate running towards him.
When the fellow wearing a taupe sport coat over a peppermint green button-down shirt, dark wash skinny jeans, & tanned leather almond-toe Stacy Adams dress boots, he struggled to catch his breath. “Do you have a few minutes so we can catch up?”
“I’m not really able to discuss the case with you,” Joe deflected.
“Oh I know,” the Lilliputian guy with the rosy, light-olive complexion took a hit from his inhaler. “I’m not interested in talking about the case. I wanted to get your thoughts overall on the what a court appointed special advocate like me can do to help keep k**s out of the system. My name’s Hale. Shawn Hale.”
“Uh, sure. Joe Connolly,” the lawyer extended his hand.
“Buy you a cup of coffee?”
“WHy not? There’s a good spot across the street.”
Shawn put on a gray wool peacoat.
The two men walked out of the courthouse. The bitter wind bit at their faces and mocked their futile attempts to bundle up.
“Are you from here originally,” Shawn asked.
“Yes. I grew up here. What about you?”
“I grew up in Virginia.”
“What the hell made you move here?”
“Work.”
Inside the bustling cafe, they ordered warm beverages. Shawn went to swipe his card, but Joe insisted. “At least let the hometown boy take care of the first date,” he’d said.
“Suit yourself. I guess you’re already looking forward to the second date then,” Shawn teased.
“You never know,” chuckled Joe.
They took a seat. Shawn added two yellow packets of a sucralose artificial sweetener to his coffee. Apparently the attorney drank his black.
“So,” Joe started. “What do you wanna know?”
“I’m just curious to find out what you think is missing to keep young men and young Black men out of the system.”
“That’s easy. Don’t commit crime,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I know that, Mr. Connolly. What are the things that lead to the point of committing the crime? How do we prevent it?”
“I’m a former cop that worked my way through law school part-time. Now, I’m a prosecutor. Are you sure you want my opinion? In case you hadn’t noticed I’m also a white guy. So, I’m kinda the enemy, right?!?”
“I had noticed,” Shawn leaned forward. “And I don’t think you’re the enemy. What you did in court today tells me you care. And I see tons of humanity in those blue-gray eyes.”
Joe sat back and guffawed. His face blushed and he looked away.
“What’s so funny,” the shorter guy tilted his head.
“My bad,” he apologized still laughing.
“Come on now. What is it,” pressed Shawn. “Seriously.”
“Well, it’s just that everyone tells me I have BLUE eyes. Not even my wife notrices the gray in them.”
“What can I say? I’m observant. Why are you still laughing?”
“It’s kinda like a defense mechanism I guess. I’m not used to getting complimented.”
“Well, I’m going to need you to focus.”
“Okay,” Joe calmed down. “There’s a lot that can be different. I think a lot of it has to do with economics and parenting.”
“I agree with that.”
Over the next few minutes, they solved the entire juvenile justice problem in Providence.
“So, what is it that you do,” the family man inquired.
“Corporate finance.”
“Hang on a minute,” Joe held up a forefinger. He tapped his phone feverishly. He had a noticeable scowl. Het set down the device on the table. It made a thud.
“Bad news?”
“Just annoying is all.”
“Well, if you need to go…”
“No. You’re good. Sorry she interrupted us. You know how it is with women.”
“‘Fraid not. I’m gay if you couldn’t tell.”
“I try not prejudge. I have a brother that is, but he’s a bear I think they call it.”
“Oh okay,” giggled Shawn.
“No offense.”
“None taken,” the comptroller shared. “You’re a pretty laid back guy I see.”
“When I can. You guys have it all figured out. When they were talking about gay marriage I was like why the hell would anyone wanna do that?”
“Oh?”
“Yeah! But my brother got married and they’re happy. No nagging. If I ever get divorced, I’m marrying a femboi,” he grinned.
“That’s specific!”
“Yeah! I know. I like feminine energy. I could never do it with someone that’s hairy and scruffy like my brother. But someone soft & girly. Why not?”
“Someone like me,” Shawn batted his eyes.
“Actually, yeah! Someone just like you,” Joe admitted. “It’s real easy talking to you.”
“Yeah! You’re not bad.”
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“Okay…”
“Where’s your family from?”
“Virgina.”
“I mean your ancestry.”
“Well,” Shawn cleared his throat. “Can I get another cup of joe, Joe?”
“Yeah. I got you. We’re still on the first date after all,” he chortled. “Be right back!”
Joe returned and handed a cup to Shawn. He had a bottle of water for himself. “So what’s so drawn out about your family history.”
“Not really that drawn out. I’m mixed-ish,” the guy with caramel-brown locs said.
“Mixed-ish? Either you are or you aren’t,” Joe countered.
“Have you ever heard the term Melungeon?”
“No.”
“It was a derogatory term applied to some people in Virginia and Tennessee mountains in the 1700s & 1800s. They were folks that had intertwined bloodlines of African, Europen, & Native American. Some communities considered them white. Some didn’t. There was actually an order in Virginia that ordered my family be changed from white to Negro.”
“Wow! That is interesting. You ever do a DNA test,” Joe asked.
“Yeah I did!”
“What were your results?”
“50% Sub-Saharan Africa. 44% European. 6% Native American.”
“Anything you didn’t expect?”
“There was some from beyond West Africa. And I was 3% Norweigian. No idea.”
“That’s cool!”
“What about you?”
“Irish Catholic. Some German. I’ve been thinking about taking one of them.”
“You should.”
“Maybe I will,” Joe smirked.
“Well, I’d love to sample your DNA.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Only if it’s working.”
“I’m pretty attentive. And I could use it. My wife hasn’t given me any in two weeks.”
“Well, I’m available. Here’s my number. I better get going.”
Joe watched the nearly dwarf man sashay out the door. He felt it might seriously be time to try it.
A few days later, Joe contacted Shawn via text. He asked if they could watch the Pats play on Sunday. Shawn said sure and that he lived alone.
Game day arrived.
Joe showed up at Shawn’s. The host had prepared wings and nachos. And, there was plenty of beer. New England was ahead of the Titans 21 to 7 at the half.
Joe was not really interested in the game. He’d been much more taken with Shawn in those teeny, tiny shorts and pink cami. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been in months.”
“How so,” Shawn quizzed.
“I mean you’re laid back. And we’re just hanging. No arguments. Nothing like home.”
“That’s just the beer talking.”
“Nope. Beer’s got nothing to do with it. But, your ass sure does.”
“You like it,” Shawn hopped up and pranced over.
“Yeah,” smiled Joe as he put his large hands on the taut bubble. “Why are you in to me?”
“You’re nice and handsome!”
“You like my dad bod,” he chuckled.
“Yes, I do,” winked Shawn.
“Let’s see,” Joe stood. He scooped the petite effeminate being into his arms. “Where’s the bedroom.”
Shawn gestured down the hall.
Joe was a Keltic warrior - strong & mighty - carrying his alluring, chaste, & seductive pygmy as if the vixen were a captured bride. He placed Shawn on the bed gently. Shawn sat up. Joe held up his hand for Shawn to pause and he pushed the mutliracial cutie back down. He peeled the bright top down the torso and smooth legs. He traced the silken skin with his thumb. His pulse raced as he salivated. He wiggled the itty-bitty shorts off of Shawn too.
Joe flipped Shawn over and massaged the small booty. He kissed each cheek and nibbled them gently. He spread them apart and saw the clenched pink hole. “My god, you’re sexy!” He patted it with his finger then lowered his head to it. He licked slowly and stuck his tongue inside. He placed his whole mouth in the crack. He made love to it orally with meticulous care.
He could feel Shawn breathing intently. The sexy femme bottom purred & twitched, squirmed & cooed, hummed & wriggled. Joe drew much pleasure from this. He added a finger on occasion.
“Mmmmm,” Shawn moaned.
“You like that,” the man checked taking a quick break.
“Mmhmm,” confirmed the paramour.
Joe continued pleasuring his host.
Shawn loved the sensations going through his body. “Oh my god, Joe! I wanna taste you too.”
The married man got on his side. He kept eating Shawn’s booty hole.
Shawn pulled down the jeans and took out a juicy white cock that was every bit of eight inches. It was thick and uncircumsized. He put it in his mouth and worked his head in circles.
After a while, they were ready.
Joe climbed on top. He leaned down to nibble on Shawn’s neck. He slid his meat inside the pussy hole.
“Oh my god,” winced the special advocate.
“Oh yeah! You’re tight, baby,” Joe exhaled. “It feels great!”
“Give it to me, sexy!”
“You got it!”
Joe worked his hips cautiously getting every inch of his manhood into the rectum. He made it all the way to the hilt.
His hairy balls rested against Shawn’s taint. They had not felt the touch of another person’s backside in ages. They came to life and sent a signal to Joe’s brain. They told him they were alive and ready duty. They begged for a pounding. Joe’s brain explained they must wait. This would be a sensual savoring session.
Joe gave metered half-strokes. He pushed as deep as he could get.
Shawn whined as he took all of the taller, more brusque man. “It feels so good!”
“You like it?”
“Yes, sir! Oh my god!”
Joe took out more and more with each thrust. Soon, he was fucking Shawn with his full eight inches every time. “I want you on your back!”
Now, Joe looked into Shawn’s dark brown eyes. “You’re so fucking hot!” He piston fucked the hole.
“I love it,” Shawn wailed. “Fuck me! Fuck me harder.”
“That’s what you want?”
“I want it however you give it!”
“How about this, baby?”
Joe slammed into Shawn with incredible force.
“Yes! Yes! God yes,” shrieked the gnomish boi. “Fuck my sissy pussy!”
“Yeah! You like this big White cock in your sissy pussy?”
“Yes, sir!”
Joe hammered. Shawn whimpered.
“Fuck yeah, baby! Your pussy is perfect!”
“Gimme that dick! I love how you fuck me!”
“Yeah, gurl! Take this dick, femboi!”
Shawn gripped Joe’s sturdy back/
Joe groaned. He tensed. His buttocks tightened. His heart paused. “Arrrrrggggghhhhhhh!”
With that, Shawn was flooded with a river of cum.
Joe rolled onto his back.
As they lay there drenched and spent, they caught their breath.
Joe remarked, “If you were my wife I’d fuck you every day. You’d never have to work.”
“That’s sweet! I’d cook for you,” Shawn imagined.
“Not necessary. I’d take you out to eat every night. And buy you lingerie.”
“You think so?”
“I told you. If I ever get divorced, I’m marrying me a femboi. You just solidified it.”
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