There, lying on the wet grass, were five empty Irish whiskey bottles. I carefully picked them up to take home. Who was the mysterious little green man... Surely his fingerprints would be on the bottles, and probably his DNA too. I could see no trace of him on the grass, although there was still a clear indentation where I had been sitting. I continued to ponder the problem for the rest of the day.The next morning I was in half a mind not to go to work. I wasn’t looking forward to another week of. That's kind of weird. And besides, I'm not sure I can get it up again so soon," he said.Amber reached out and stroked his long, wet, soft cockmeat and chirped, "I bet a stud like you can do it four times a night. Come on, Sean, give him a good suck for me."I knew I again had no choice. Under any other circumstances I would never have even thought about blowing another guy. But from Amber's confident demands and seeing my friend's enormous schlong dangling like a snake between his muscular. More

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