“Oh, holy fuck,” I gasp aloud. “There’s no way I’m not going to think about this during our wedding.” “What?” Joey asks, his eyes flaring wide. “What?!” I shout. “Fuck, I’m gonna—” Joey’s words cut off into a groan, and he comes in a flash across my fist, painting his stomach in a dirty abstract work of fucking art as his ass clamps tight around my cock.
