Santoro screw his Girlfriend while a homosexual boy munch his soles

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I sight at my master's eyes, his arms, his chest, even with his clothes on, his torso looks so sexy, I witness in detail how his veined and intense palm holds my leash, his lady who agrees with his role as master, she just looks at me without saying anything while smooching him, nearly as if saying "This is what you can never have Patrick" and I know, unluckily the type of guys I like are guys I can never have, heterosexual guys... obviously they will never be my boyfriends nor someone to go to the videos or walk forearm in forearm with, but life trained me another way to sate them, life trained me that studs like them need faggy mates like me at their feet, but with faggy i don't chat about the traditional respectable fag boy I mean one like me who enjoy feling less of a boy 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 boy who prefers to conform another, is the flesh with which I perceive comfortable. Matthew takes off his shoes, tugs on my rope and makes me inhale his enjoyable scent of an Italian man, the smell of his male feet is so intense and intense, that albeit he smells of expensive perfumes, it is unlikely not to transfer the sweat from his gym sneakers to his sneakers for social use, the scent is there, always strong, always introduce and I enjoy it, I also enjoy the fact that his lady doesn't mind this at all, having a beau with a intense 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 intense boy feet with my fag 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, very salty, but I enjoy it, I'm a individual washer for sweet men's socks like him. Santoro's lady doesn't make noise, it's nearly as if she knows that her only role here is to sate her boyfriend, that for the 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.