ivern bramblefoot

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

Noah then grabbed Viktor’s mangled legs and began swinging him around, smashing him against the ground over and over again, just gentle enough to keep Viktor from dying. The broken warrior inevitably blacked out, but there was no escape. It wasn’t just about punishing Viktor; Noah had to ensure that “Reiss” would be kicked out of the tournament.

She worked her head like a machine, inhaling as much of his dick and then slowly rising up, enjoying every inch she could. Knowing how heavy a sleeper he was now, she started to bounce with each movement, using the momentum to cram her father’s cock further down her throat each time. After a minute or so of his fervent blowjob, her father’s cock jumped in her mouth and started filling it with his seed. Sarah didn’t wait like last time and swallowed each emission as they came, greedily sucking the tip each time and hoping for more.