Surprising me, she lurched forward and squeezed the trigger on the bottle, suddenly dousing my knob in a mist of cool, tingling liquid that made me groan inwardly with pleasure at the sensation. Wrapping my round brass protrusion in a soft cloth and a firm grip, she started polishing my knob with slow, smooth strokes that stirred something deep in my wood. Her features were soft and sensual as she concentrated on her work, her thumb slipping over my raised lock ridge through the thin barrier of the cloth, almost teasingly.
I CANNOT DO THIS BRO WHY AM I RRADING THIS IN PUBLIC
