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OFFICIAL Patriots-Jets Game Thread
I'll never forget the first time I saw Gronk spike a football.... The unrivaled power of his touchdown dance: ‘The Gronk.’ It jettisoned jiggling ribbons of electric jelly through my body and melted my knees like two pads of margarine—turned me on quicker and made me wetter than at any other time in my life other than my wedding night.” (Page 1)
Suddenly, all I wanted to do was watch Gronk do his thang-thang in the zone place there. My vagina demanded it.
Gronk lifts the football in his hand and spikes it with such violence the ball launches 50 feet in the air...Silky ribbons of juice pleasure wobble through my nethers. My nipples harden beneath my sweater...My fingers take a detour to the front of my pants. I back up against the door of my kitchen and sink my hands all the way down the front of my panties into my hot pussy and begin furiously rubbing my clit.
I picture being mauled by a huge monolith of a man. My body used for his hard pleasure; a stone god gripping me in his hands. He hoists me in the air. My clothes are ripped from my body, my quivering flesh open and available, my body ready to be used by the strong force of the universe, a ravaging, rampaging man. He brushes aside his loincloth. And then…out comes his stone pillar of a cock.
I would sneak away to a dark corner of the library and fire up a computer. I’d google info on Gronkowski, check his stats, read his bio, watch some videos, then rub one out right then and there in the library—let jiggly ribbons of lady-sensuality cavort on my body, strangle me, swallow me whole and annihilate me in its pink and roiling.
Suddenly, all I wanted to do was watch Gronk do his thang-thang in the zone place there. My vagina demanded it.
Gronk lifts the football in his hand and spikes it with such violence the ball launches 50 feet in the air...Silky ribbons of juice pleasure wobble through my nethers. My nipples harden beneath my sweater...My fingers take a detour to the front of my pants. I back up against the door of my kitchen and sink my hands all the way down the front of my panties into my hot pussy and begin furiously rubbing my clit.
I picture being mauled by a huge monolith of a man. My body used for his hard pleasure; a stone god gripping me in his hands. He hoists me in the air. My clothes are ripped from my body, my quivering flesh open and available, my body ready to be used by the strong force of the universe, a ravaging, rampaging man. He brushes aside his loincloth. And then…out comes his stone pillar of a cock.
I would sneak away to a dark corner of the library and fire up a computer. I’d google info on Gronkowski, check his stats, read his bio, watch some videos, then rub one out right then and there in the library—let jiggly ribbons of lady-sensuality cavort on my body, strangle me, swallow me whole and annihilate me in its pink and roiling.
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