“Michael!” A booming voice was heard over the din of the reporters. An Arab in full flowing gear in his forties or fifties strode forward and shoo... the winning jockey’s hand. “I’m glad to see my family’s money has a not gone to waste.”“Samed Basm.” Fenella Hashwillow, lady of the manor at Ernley Estate and Stud, whispered in Ingrid’s ear. “Heir to the Basm conglomerate of petroleum products.”“Thank you sir.” The jockey replied. “And it’s Marco.”“Come, let’s celebrate.” Samed clapped a hand on. The smile on his face was something I will always remember. He was instantly hard and rubbing his cock through his pants as he scrolled through my pictures. So I invited him up to my room so I could get some panties. He sat down in a chair next to our bed, and pulled his pants off. I handed him two pairs of her panties out of the dirty hamper, and I sat on my bed across from him. I watched as he held one pair to his nose and wrapped the other pair around his rock hard cock. I listed as he. More

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