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head up and
down. One hand stroked my cock in contrapuntal rhythm, the other
caressed my balls in time with the silent music Yoko Kumada was playing
on my skin flute.
"Oh, baby, baby, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" I shouted as I
felt the cum begin racing up my prick toward that loving orifice.
Images of Mt. St. Helens and Old Faithful could have flashed
through my mind had another eruption not been foremost in my
thoughts.
Yoko Kumada quickly took Yoko's mouth away, but Yoko's busy hands kept up
there work, coaxing hot ropes of juice out of my pulsing prick
onto my belly.
"What a flood!" Yoko Kumada said. "I'm sorry I was afraid to
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Yoko Kumada : photo 503720
