This morning, though, when Mike took a seat at the table across from Mark fortunately the topic was football. He hadn't even gotten his coffee ordered...yet when Clark was asking, "What do you think of this McGuinniss kid at quarterback? He's only a sophomore, for Christ's sakes."While Mike let Varner handle the other sports, he'd realized long before that football was a big enough deal in Spearfish Lake that he felt more comfortable handling it himself. "Looks pretty good," Mike said. "He's got. He really hated the taste of his Master’s spunk.“Now clean my cock with your tongue until every drop has gone. Don’t forget to pull my foreskin back and clean the head.”“Yes, Master.” The slave dutifully set about his task until all traces of spunk had gone.“Stand up,” ordered the Master. He could see that the slave’s cock was stiff and wet. “I didn’t give YOU permission to have an erection, slut. Bend over, part your legs and prepare to start counting.”The slave bent over, his cock still. More

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