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☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿
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☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿
@alphctwink
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𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝘽𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 Katılım Eylül 2019
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☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 retweetledi
☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 retweetledi
☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 retweetledi
☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 retweetledi
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☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 retweetledi

@bubblebootieboi yooo mikey....Id be honored to walk in on you in a locker room to find those heavy ass wobblers clappin and slappin around sooooo fuckin bad!!!!
English
☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 retweetledi

@holekarter Who would have thought cum and butt stink was the way to make jocks go night-night
English

@alphctwink he’s already been digging around through his jeans —
didn’t seem to help and now the hand he’s got rested on his jaw to keep his head up in class as he dozes off smells like ass.
and his dumper still itches.
English

Jerking off into @holekarter underwear so he can wear his cum against his hole during class
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@alphctwink damn — he’s got no clue why his ass is so itchy today. he must’ve forgotten to wash today.
that had to be it.
English
☜ 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 retweetledi

Mateo Vargas killed the showroom lights at 8:52 p.m., lingering by the Mustang GT he’d polished to a mirror shine. He ran the cloth in slow arcs, arching his back so the khakis stretched taut across his heavy glutes. The fabric outlined twin caramel lobes that quivered with each breath—his signature asset, the one that turned heads and flooded comments. Former D1 tight end, 230 pounds of gym muscle, yet the internet—and his coworkers—fixated on the ass.
Rico locked the front door. Jamal blocked the hall. Carlos stared openly at the deep seam bisecting those cheeks.
“Enough shows, Vargas,” Jamal said. “You’ve been shaking that fat bubble for months. Posting clips. Teasing.”
Mateo laughed uneasily. “It’s just content.”
Rico spun him, slammed him chest-down on the warm hood. Mateo’s palms slapped metal. Jamal pinned his wrists overhead. Carlos knelt, nose buried in the cleft through fabric, tongue dragging a long stripe up the crack.
Rico cracked a palm across one globe. The flesh rippled outward, stinging red blooming. “You begged for this.”
Khakis peeled down thick thighs. Briefs ripped aside. Mateo’s cock hung heavy, leaking, ignored. The prize: two perfect, dimpled globes, pucker slick and winking.
Rico spread him wide. “Greedy little pussy.”
Carlos notched, pushed. The head breached with a wet suck; Mateo cried out as thick inches stretched him open. Carlos thrust hard, making the cheeks slap back against his hips in rhythmic claps.
Rico took next—thicker, meaner. One brutal shove buried him balls-deep. He pounded long and deep, spanking until the globes glowed, forcing Mateo’s hips to roll back, ass rippling helplessly.
Jamal flipped him onto his back, legs shoved high. Hole gaped, puffy and red, slick with spit. Jamal slid in slow, grinding deep, pubic bone crushing the rim. Three rough strokes on Mateo’s untouched cock and he shattered—ropes arcing across his pecs, soaking the polo. His hole clenched, milking Jamal through the spasms until hot spurts flooded him deeper.
They left him sprawled, khakis at his ankles, cum trickling down the crack, hole pulsing. Rico tossed the phone.
“Post it.”
Mateo angled the camera: bruised cheeks, gaping entrance, spent cock. Voice hoarse: “Lot’s closed… ride got real.”
He uploaded. Views climbed before the lights died. And in the dark, a hungry part of him waited for who came next.
English
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