Darrell Jacks His Meat

Darrell punches back on the couch, makes himself handy, gropes his package to work up a full salute, and then whips out a giant manhood thru his fly. At the same time, he pulls off his sundress t-shirt and truss. His t-shirt was stashing a slick and rigidly beefy chest, which compliments the solid sausage banging thru his lingerie. When Darrell bends his back to tug down his trousers and briefs, we get to observe his rigid rod in its utter glory. Darrell is a certain young guy, identically experienced with either forearm. Curling his lip, left arm wedged behind his head, Darrell pumps out 3 force globs, at least a sole in the air.