And the third wench? Without knowing for certain, he believed that the one at his left ear was another young dark-haired girl, which meant that the third was the squat old wide-hipped matron he had seen whose great pendulous blue-veined breasts had stretched out a foot or more under the pull of the tireless n****e clamps. She may not have been fresh-faced or lithe anymore, but upon the island of Marquis Gallance it was sure that the fleshy thing possessed thirty or forty years of experience at the servicing of men’s intimate desires. This shameless older cunt, therefore, had slithered straight up behind him, between the blonde’s upraised calves and his struggling thighs, and now her open mouth gobbled patiently along the jouncing flesh of his scrotum, her tongue rolling and flopping all ab
