In the streets, we are cold and ruthless—ink-stained knuckles and icy glares that make men afraid to cross our path. But behind closed doors, I kneel before a muscular thug, longing for his cock.
PREVIEW - In the streets, we’re ruthless—ink-stained knuckles and cold stares that make men cross the road. But behind locked doors, I drop to my knees for my muscle-bound thug , hungry for his cock.