Aletta Ocean’s Solo Session: A Pornstar’s Wild Self-Pleasure Fantasy

He grunted, bit and scratched at me until he couldn’t last any longer and drew his hand away, leaving me to follow his example and work on myself. 
With a groan, he lay back on the carpet, his hands a blur as he attacked his thick shaft mercilessly. I could feel my own prick hardening, pressing against the thin stretch fabric of my bathers. XXX “You not well?” You’re right, I thought. Until then, my only contact with Native Americans had been at my local drive-in, and this guy, with his long ponytail and richly decorated shirt, could have starred in any screen western. From the slow repetitious rhythm I guessed it was a love song or lullaby learnt from his Indian mother. “Give it another try.” 
I needed something to distract myself