The tinkle of broken glass and drunken laughter fills the air as you reach for the closest empty bottle of Bud Light (buy American!). DD’s hand closes around yours, sending a jolt of desire through your body. He flings the bottle off the balcony at someone he could only assume was a filthy Mexican living in this great country illegally, but really it is just a shitty faggot neighbor who likes to self-tan. DD kisses you roughly and pulls you into his bedroom. He wastes no time in unzipping his Levi jeans and pulling his thick cock out of his American flag boxers. He shoves it down your throat, making you swallow every inch of his country sausage. He pumps away mercilessly, then pulls out and beats you while calling you “Rodney King.” You go back to work on his sweet member as he pulls on his pointy white hood. DD increases his pace as he slams himself into your wide open mouth. He tilts his head up to look at the poster of George W. Bush he has fixed on his ceiling for just these occasions. He winks at it, rams his cock past your lips two more times and pulls out, telling you to get ready for the fireworks. He spurts all over your face, somehow ejaculating red, white and blue; he yells “party in the U.S.A.!”
