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Ellie stumbles into her room with her date in tow, not stopping for a moment as she pulls him toward her bed, clothes falling to the ground if by magic as she does. Bert smells of fresh baked beans, burning coals, and something uniquely him, and it drives Ellie wild with lust like she’s at a barbecue and she can’t wait to tear into that meat.
“Show me your weiner and I’ll show you my roast beef,” she says as she lays back on the bed and spreads her legs wide. The last clothes between them are Bert’s tighty whities and the boots he didn’t manage to kick off on the way to the bed. She ponders the question of how he removed his pants without his shoes and decides that’s not her problem as she tries to coax him out of his briefs.
He hesitates for a moment with his hands on the fraying waistband of his underpants, so she reassures him, “I don’t care if you have a teeny weenie or a big salami, I just want it in my cum cave.”
“It’s just that I know the author is going to feel the need to describe it, and it’s completely normal other than leaning a little to the left and that might be cliche.”
He finally finishes stripping, aside from his shoes for some reason, and his one eyed wonder weasel is disappointingly normal. Just a standard sausage with the casing pulled back.
His dongle stands tall and proud like a soldier complete with helmet. Ellie salutes it as he scoots in between her spread legs. “Stick it in and wiggle it around a bit,” Ellie exclaims as he begins to lean over her to stick his face between her gazongas.
“Brbrbrbrblelrer,” he replies as he motorboats those milkers.
“Are you going to put your willy in my ax wound or would you rather jam your piston in my tailpipe?” Ellie asks.
“I’ll slip it in your moist chasm now,” Bert says as he pulls his face out of her tatas.
“That’s right, pound me like a nail,” Ellie says as he begins to finally copulate with her.
He flops on her like a fish as they create the beast with two backs, sliding his love muscle into her hoo-ha.
“Don’t forget to ring the devil’s doorbell,” she says, guiding his hand toward her special pearl.
It feels less good than a vibrator but still pretty nice. As she reaches the big O, she begs, “That’s it, fill me with your eggs!”
Bert looks her straight in the eyes and says, “It’s not that kind of fic,” as he splooges all up in her wet tunnel.
Her soft cunny is dripping with baby batter as she gets up to go pee so she won’t get a UTI, enjoying the feeling of spunk in her freshly fucked meat hole. By the time she returns to the bed, Bert has fallen asleep in his jizz, so she decides that changing the sheets can wait until tomorrow.
He is still wearing his shoes.