Santoro plumb his Gf while a queer stud gobble his soles

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I view at my master's eyes, his arms, his chest, even with his clothes on, his pecs looks so sexy, I witness in detail how his veined and strenuous mitt holds my leash, his dame who agrees with his role as master, she just looks at me sans telling anything while smooching him, nearly as if telling "This is what you can never have Patrick" and I know, unluckily the type of studs I like are studs I can never have, hetero guys... clearly they will never be my boyfriends nor someone to go to the flicks or walk mitt in mitt with, but life trained me another way to satiate them, life trained me that studs like them need faggy buddies like me at their feet, but with faggy i don't converse about the traditional respectable gay fellow I mean one like me who enjoy feling less of a fellow than them, an ever-present accessory that highlights their masculinity, something you can even strut about it, like “look at my expensive watch” oh yeah “look at my faggy slave, mine cooks italian food and yours, do you even have one ? ha! and you call yourself a man?“, this is what I chose and I am glad with it, this flesh of a fellow who prefers to conform another, is the flesh with which I feel comfortable. Matthew strips his shoes, tugs on my cord and makes me suck his enjoyable aroma of an Italian man, the odor of his male feet is so strenuous and intense, that although he smells of expensive perfumes, it is impossible not to transfer the sweat from his gym sneakers to his sneakers for social use, the aroma is there, always strong, always introduce and I enjoy it, I also enjoy the fact that his dame doesn't mind this at all, having a beau with a strenuous feet smell, who also puts his feet in the face of pathetics like me, who makes them smear their sweat, wash every inch of their strenuous fellow feet with my gay tongue. I've always said that by looking at details on camera you can guess how someone's feet smell, I think looking at Santoro's socks it's a bit visible his smell. Using his strength, he postures me on the stool, turns me around and places his heel, still in socks, in my open mouth, using it as a stopper, it's salty, highly salty, but I enjoy it, I'm a individual washer for juicy men's socks like him. Santoro's dame doesn't make noise, it's nearly as if she knows that her only role here is to satiate her boyfriend, that for the very first time in her life, the cameras don't want to sexualize her and want her boyfriend, who is like a God Greek who is worth to be adored by all.