Just then the pretty young waitress noticed Lucy’s messy face, a gob of cum sliding down one of her pigtails and remarked, “I’m sorry ma’am you seem to have some kind of goop on your hair and face.”
“It must be the raw oyster juice,” John laughed raucously looking at Lucy’s beet red face covered with his cum.
The young waitress, feeling for John, and thinking how his mother must have early Alzheimer’s, said, “You poor, poor man.”
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