She started to sob. Great big, gasping sobs that left her sputtering and hiccupping and struggling for breath as hot, glistening tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. It was something we both should have discussed and figured out way ahead of time, what exactly she wanted me to do if and when she fell apart on me. But we were inexperienced, the both of us, so new and raw and learning. We engineered so much of our dynamic as we went along in our typical reckless, loving, instinctive fashion. Instinct had gotten us this far, so I let it play out again. I gingerly pulled back until my wilting cock slipped from her ass, and took her into my arms. I wrapped her up tight in my embrace, snugging her to my chest, her face pressed to my shoulder and neck, and let her cry herself out. I didn’t shush her, or rush her. I didn’t discourage her tears or ask her what was wrong. I knew how intensely effected I was from the last few hours, and I was on the giving end. I could only imagine the. I could tell things started flowing for Anthony and the monster began to awake. Playfully she grasped it and just held it in her hand. I could see his dick swell in her hand as the blood rushed through the veins that run along his shaft and it grew harder. She then reached over and took it in both her hands. She started to pull on it. I could see his head lean back and eyes close. He was definitely enjoying having my wife play with his cock. What man wouldn't? The way she was working him, I could tell she was mesmerized by his extra-large manhood. Then she knelt down even closer to it, so close I could see her breathe in deeply to smell his musky maleness. It proudly stood from his dark, wiry, black public hair. His balls looked like two large eggs in his hairy, bull-sized sac. They were swinging back and forth as she really started to jerk him up and down. By the time she stopped, he had to be a good 8-9 inches hard. Not only was he long, but the girth was very impressive. It was as.
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