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admin : May 4, 2013 9:45 pm : Cum Loving Black Girls, Ebony Teen Blowjob, Facial Cumshots, Fresh Face Teens, Girls Sucking Cock, Interracial Teen Sex, XXX Action

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White Granny Swallows It All

admin : December 16, 2010 12:12 am : BBC Lovers, Black Porn Movies, Interracial Porn Movies, Interracial XXX Videos, XXX Action

This granny at Filth Freaks loves to fuck around with young, hung studs. They must pick her up from bingo and fuck the shit out of her. Enjoy the video and click the link to get more movies and access to 40 more sites for free.

Grandma starts sucking my mans big dick and taking that cock down her throat, swallowing it. She had been wanting the cock for a few weeks since he met her at his uncles birthday party.

He could tell she was eyeing his big black cock through his jeans, so he decided to give it to her. He didn’t think she’d be swallowing his dick like she did. The older the berry the sweeter the juice.

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Eating That Fine White Punani

admin : June 8, 2010 9:03 pm : BBC Lovers, Black Porn Movies, Girls Sucking Cock, Interracial Porn Movies, Interracial XXX Videos, XXX Action


This white bitch with a nose piercing is wiggling and shit when homey eats her pussy from behind. She loves the daddy dick and knows how to ride a tongue.

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Big Titted Honey Getting Dick

admin : April 29, 2010 10:08 am : XXX Action



Sexy babe gettin the daddy dick from one of my boys.

This bitch loves having her pussy roughed up like only we know how to do.

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African Interracial Part 1

admin : February 16, 2010 12:45 am : Black Sex Stories, Interracial Sex Stories

As she paced back and forth in front of the assembled conference participants, cordless microphone in one hand, the lighting often cast her skin color into the blue-black indigo range of the spectrum. She was extraordinary in her carriage as well. She was not a tall woman; but she was a big woman, perhaps only 5′ 5″ tall and most likely 145-150 lbs. She was purposeful in her movements and let everyone in the assembled group know that she was a force to be reckoned with.

Her most incredibly attractive feature was her hair – long, inordinately long, jet black and brilliantly lustrous in the overhead lighting. Her entire face was set in an inky frame that solidified the idea in my mind that this was a hugely sexual being. A thin sheen of – of what? Perspiration? Natural skin oils? Whatever it actually was, it turned her skin into a shiny obsidian that reflected the light from the small spotlights in the ceiling directly back into my eyes and stunned me with a smothering effect.

I stiffened at my table as her eyes found mine, locked for a second, then moved on to another target around the room. Had there been a moment of recognition there? A moment of communication? I felt it; but I did not understand it.

My reason for being here in suburban Philadelphia at a conference of advisers and counselors from colleges and universities in the eastern part of the state was simple: I intended to get laid; again. Let me digress a bit here, dear reader. Approximately nine months ago I attended a similar conference in Hershey, Pennsylvania and met an incredible woman with whom I enjoyed an afternoon and an evening of truly romantic passion. For some reason, our goals at that very moment meshed so that both of us attributed the electric charge that surged through us when we were first introduced, as a sign that something else – something much more definitive – was about to take place in our commingled lives.

We learned about each other during a long, luncheon discussion. We learned that we were both married to partners who no longer cared for the physical side of a relationship and had supplanted that factor with other things – in my wife’s case, the spiritual life of a fundamentalist church group, in her husband’s case, an overwhelming vicarious experience in watching sports of any and all kinds. We looked at each other quite naively and expected that we would feel something and walk away from it at the end of the day. How wrong we were!

Our afternoon and evening were spent in a romantic hotel room with snacks and treats and an unbelievable marathon of sexual tenderness. She very quickly accepted the fact that at my age, actual intercourse was a sidelight to the big event and relaxed into a receiver’s role to my repeated onslaughts of oral attention. This, for some odd reason, had become an honest-to-God fetish with me over the past ten years or so. I find that I much prefer to ravish a woman orally – repeatedly – than to engage in any form of genital copulation that would be less than satisfactory to her. After a few polite protests, she understood that I could be fulfilled emotionally by providing her repeated peaks and valleys of delicious orgasm with fingers, thumbs, lips, teeth and tongue. It became evident that she was enthralled with the idea that she could take all she wanted from the afternoon and not be fearful of having let her partner down in her part of the bargain.

What I have failed to mention to this point is, she was black — my very first black woman of any consequence in a loving, physical relationship. And I learned very quickly in that long afternoon that black is, indeed, beautiful; and there is a taste and texture difference, which simply cannot be described by a mortal man with a limited vocabulary.

When we parted, we arranged to meet again at this particular conference. She would, again, be moderating a discussion panel and I would be a willing participant in the audience – until after the conference; and then my participation would take on a different attitude — or so we thought at the time.

Somehow, we lost contact for a while. E-mails dropped off in their frequency and I assumed that the interest had been fleeting on her part and she had decided that the rendezvous in Philadelphia was a poor idea. I accepted that. She had much to lose in her position, and I was treading on thin ice in my own marriage as my wife had already allowed suspicion about my online activities to take over her life. She had become a private investigator of the enth degree and had actually confronted me with her suspicions. So I, too, was not too certain this would be a good idea.

Two days before the conference, I heard from her. She was sexually delirious with the idea that we could have the opportunity to renew our passion and told me she was quite anxious to connect in Philadelphia. I could not say no. I could not tell her that in the meantime I had met someone else online and had planned to meet that woman at the hotel where the conference was to be held.

I was, indeed, in a quandary.

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