And then it came. Trent grew more aggressive and yanked his c**k from Polly’s tight grip. She gave a gasp and a light little moan as her big eyes turned up toward Trent, as if awaiting orders from her master. She knew what was in her future, and it was my husband’s eight inch c**k, that now dangled just before her, and covered in her spit.
Trent pressed Polly back down against carpet, and as her back hit the floor, he started to massage her breasts. Polly threw her head back and laughed wildly, with her legs kicking restlessly. Her hips writhed as his palms brushed over her n*****s, before he brought his mouth down over each one, sending Polly into a wild series of lustful cries. “Fuck... f**k yes,” she moaned, grabbing Trent’s hair, as if trying to guide him. But my husband had a few tri
