I.D. Please…

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They approached cautiously, looking around and giggling. Both blonde, cheer-leader types, nineteen or twenty, with tight asses wrapped in low-rise denim and perky tits barely hidden under crop tops.Pausing beside me they looked at the door, then at me. They both smiled brightly.“You will have to show your I.D. to get in,” I told them. “You have to be twenty-one.”“Oh,” the taller one replied with a sly grin. “I forgot it Ankara escort at home.”“Then you can’t get in. Sorry.”They whispered to each other while looking me up and down, and the shorter one stepped close.“What if one of us gives you a blow job?” she offered seductively.This was an unexpected but exciting development.“What if both of you do?” I replied, hoping to get a positive response.“Uh, Ankara escort bayan okay,” she giggled.“Sure,” the taller one replied. “Where?”I gestured for them to follow me around the corner of the building, leading them to the trash bins, and stepped into the area beside them. They glanced around nervously before dropping to their knees in front of me, putting their purses Escort Ankara between their legs, and smiling up at me.I unzipped and unbuttoned, lowered my pants, and pulled my cock out. Short blondie grabbed it quickly and gave it a few strokes before taking me in her mouth. She sucked a few times before moving away and letting her friend take a turn. My dick was hard and my balls full, I had a week’s worth built up.The lips and tongues bathed my shaft, soaking it with their spit and drool, and their small hands cupped my balls and stroked my swollen shaft. One took me deep, gagging before getting all of it down, and pulled back gasping. The other tried and failed as well, managing about the same before backing off.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32