But it wasn’t my last! I pulled off my pants and sat on a burlap bag covered hay bale, Max came over to me when I called and sat there happily panting as I petted him then reached down and grasped his cock-sheath. The veins pulsed visibly as his dong throbbed between my bubbly lips, his squirts of juice now becoming larger and larger, making me choke with each blast from the tip but I was NOT going to take my mouth off it even if it was now coming out of my nose and my working lips in streams. Maxs knot was huge, almost the size of a softball but hard as a rock, and as he stopped thrusting so much and pushed slowly forward and back I grasped it and the hilt behind to slide my slime covered hands all around it. My Father raised and bred Dobermans on the side, and during the summer my kid Brother “Gene” (2 1/2 years younger) would stay with him, as my parents were separated at that time.
