I can take you as deep as you want to go sir. Please fuck me," he was practically crying now. It was pretty gross, but I started to tent in my shorts....It wasn't the scene, it was the way Mr. Hamad exerted himself over the trainer. How did he get a guy that size to whine like a bitch?"Shut the fuck up. You talking does nothing for me." Mr. Hamad ordered and pushed Derek down against the towel on the bed. "Stick that pink hole out for me, spread your legs." And then Mr. Hamad slicked up his cock. When he entered the house through its side entrance he was amazed at how quiet everything was. It was disconcerting. Mary wasn't there, cooking dinner or watching TV. She'd left him, he remembered. Shit.But also, the loud rock music that usually came from his daughter's room upstairs wasn't to be heard, either. Strange.He began to grow nervous again. Maybe she'd left. Maybe his little girl had hiked up to the police station, or was at a neighbor's house. Or maybe, he thought optimistically, she. More

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