theresa goodwin

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“Maybe you don’t trust me.” I snare her wrist. And in doing so, I accidentally let go of the hem of my shirt. Her eyes dart to my lap. Of course they do. My embarrassingly large dick is stretching the nylon crotch of my football pants so thin, you can make out the veins, the ridges, the spot of semen I couldn’t hold back.
Hefty (Big Boys)
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