Three gangbangs in one night
Sharon looked at her rain splattered watch. She had five minutes to get to the railway station, buy a ticket, drag her bag down the stairs and into the 7.45 train back home. All up it was going to be a 90 minute trip home to her husband and the four other band members waiting to celebrate her fortieth birthday. The so called conference she just left had been a debacle. From self-destructing technologies to delayed presentations, the day, and the previous night, had been a total waste of time. Her husband Marcus had organised another gangbang with the band for her birthday, and she had to be home, at the very least, by nine o’clock. Why nine o’clock? Because after the last gangbang good old Stan, the aggressive cockhead with the small dick and …