Sliding down her face. In thick, white drops, running down her breasts and thighs. The boys were still moaning and spat their pleasure with her kneeling in the middle.
Yara ran her tongue over her lips, savoring the boys’ sour taste. Six phalluses still pointed in her honor. Beautiful hard cocks, as beautiful as their athletic bodies.
She smiled, showing her perfect teeth. The smile of a proud wife.
“I loved your gift, dear.”
He laughed, adjusting the bow tie on his tuxedo.
“It’s not every day you turn eighty.”
“Come taste it, I want to share this with you.”
