Text message. Upstairs Papi. He trod the stairs quietly and entered the room in the center of the hall. Sparse plumes of marijuana smoke wafted around...the space, eventually trailing towards the open window. Imar stood bare-chested and clad in plaid boxers that peeked over basketball shorts, padding the ash from end of his joint into a glass ashtray. His smooth, caramel skin still glistened with beads of water from the shower. Damp, shoulder-length dreadlocks were held in place by a black. As Jenny watched in amusement, John began to stroke his cock, holding it in his fist, stroking it back and forth. Jenny leaned forward to watch, her face only about a foot from his cock. John could see her cheeks flush as he continued to stroke himself, a drop of pre-cum forming on the end of his cock, dribbling from the slit in the end. Jenny's mouth was hanging open as she watched his cock swell to its biggest size, John barely able to get his fist around it. Jenny's breathing was ragged as. More

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