Her hands were on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as his tongue worked the cloth of her underwear into her groove. Art leaned back quickly, an... he tugged and pulled to get his pants open. His cock, when freed, stood proudly, a five inch long tower of flesh rising from a thick dark forest of damp, musky curls. The mushroom head was bright red, and the thick shaft was covered by fat ridges of veins. He wasn’t the biggest she’d had, but he was the second biggest. Of course, she’d only had. Between my legs was a sticky mess from the different beers they all drank and I knew my ass cheeks were bright red. Some of the guys really knew how to slap hard. A few of them had started a competition to see which of them could leave their handprint on my ass for the longest. I cried every time they slapped me. I knew they were deliberately making me miss changing beers just so they could slap me more. My Master said nothing, so I knew it must be allowed. About halfway through the power hour,. More

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