Daddy's First Time with the Hottest Moroccan Beur

I locked eyes with a stunning beur guy—bad boy energy, silent curiosity, a challenge. His stare tested me, but I wasn't one to back down. With nothing but eye contact, I led him to the hotel. He followed, knowing he was stepping into something new. The second the door clicked shut, the air changed. He was used to being in charge, but the moment he felt my hands, the size of my Italian cock, he knew—this was different. His breath hitched, his body tensed, then melted. He dropped to his knees, eager, hungry. He deepthroated me like a pro, but tonight, he wasn't in control. Our cocks clashed in an intense, uncut battle—tongues, sweat, desire. I tasted him, claimed his untouched ass. Our bodies locked, cock against cock, breath ragged. The heat was primordial. When we finally erupted—two massive, explosive loads—it was more than release. It was chemistry.