Greg with his bent cock and his expert tongue. Stuart with his battle-scarred face and his penchant for piss-play. Lewis with his oily hands–a mechanic by trade—and his tender kisses. Waylon with his country twang and his ability to make her go cross-eyed with his fingers. And then there was George, a quiet and mousy man that could fit his entire fist so far up Jodi’s pussy, she felt as if he was tickling her uterus.
