A huge spike bends down from the front. Read 38208 times |
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His body spasms. Amateur porn His penis feels good up Jonothon. His hole becomes wider, and wider. His body is weak. There is no hope for him now. But the Master is not finished with Jonothon yet. The master’s penis erects, the leathery skin squeaky. He wears nothing else but a pair of thin cotton ankle warmers. Jonothon flops back to the table, dead. There is no hope for him now. He can no longer breathe. The brain bug begins to cook Jonothon’s sludgy brain, conditioning it until it is a thick green slime. His penis wanks gently as Jonothon twitches forwards, futilely trying to free himself of the slime. The shirt is almost skin tight around his body, damp with sweat. He begins to thrust. More froth. He tries to escape. His tight, sweaty, dripping balls clench tightly with a gentle leathery squeek as they push the slime up to be pumped out the bell end.
