Friends call me Joe. I go by other names sometimes, like White Slut, Cocksucker, Faggot, Bitch, but I'll get back to that. I'm a 30- year-old GWM. Half Irish, half-unknown. That's what I always put on my profiles. I'm the product of a rape. It's such a sensitive subject for my mother that I have never asked her who her rapist was, if she knew, or what he looked like.
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Part 1: Adventures Of A White Cocksucker
Part 2: Adventures Of A White Cocksucker
There was still come on my lips as he zipped up his pants and grabbed my smokes from the bench along with another beer. "We gonna do this again sometime, boyeee," he said, walking away with a smirk on his face. The next time I ran into Tunk was a few weeks later. I was coming out of the liquor store across the street from my apartment, when Tunk came up to me for some change.
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Part 3: Adventures Of A White Cocksucker
Jake Steed, perched on the edge of a swimming pool while a big-titty black girl in the water was giving him a blowjob. "Nice flick, man," he said. "Tunk was tellin' me you know how to take care of a nigger. Think you can take care of this for me?" He pulled his juicy, brown, uncut cock from his boxers. It looked like a cigar, not as long as Tunk's, but fatter.
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