Chanel Camryn

Chanel Camryn sits in the shrink's office, nerves raw, confessing the black cocks that own her mind. Every night they rise up huge, waving right in her face. She keeps seeing them—two at once feels like too much already. Maybe it's cockaphobia. Doctor Freud, known for his radical methods, tells her to face the fear: grab it at the root and stroke it out. She agrees. One fat dick lands on her cheek, warm and heavy. She swallows hard, no panic yet. Two. Still breathing fine. Three. Her cunt tightens and starts to throb, the musky scent hitting deep. Then a fourth—now the fear cracks open and she lunges. Mouth wide, lips sliding, tongue working every inch, sucking and jerking like a woman possessed. More join in, slick black cocks coiling around her cheeks, stretching her mouth, battering her lips. She rides the rhythm, spit dripping, eyes glassy. When the first thick rope slaps across her forehead she moans and keeps pumping until each shaft unloads. Warm seed paints her face, pools on her tongue, drips from her chin in shiny ribbons. Cum-soaked and shaking, she grins through the glaze, finally the queen of every dick in the room.