#116616 - His arm was around my waist again…his fingers at my side and I sighed…his hand was hot on my skin…dark skin on my white skin…I looked in his eyes and he smiled. My girlfriend wanted a taste of more than one drink, telling me that we might not be invited by Don Ho again. These are the pictures you had me print out before I bought you a printer, and when you were still fascinated, after all these years, of what the tip of the Samoan’s penis looked like when it emerged from his foreskin…you were still thrilled at how pink and delicate it was when allthe rest of him was bronze…and at your thrill of licking and sucking on it…you told me once my semen tasted good, but nothing like his pineapple semen.