Don Quinto was reclining on large cushions, his legs were spread apart and his piece of meat was erect and hard, pointing upwards. I go over it with my tongue length and width, I enjoy licking it, and then putting it in my mouth, as much as I can swallow. I give kisses and nibbles to the shiny and fat head, the man shakes and moans, seized with heat, with fever, he growls.