You know the routine, I know, but this is explicit, graphic entertainment. The following erotica involves sexual situations between CONSENTING, ADULT MALES.
Please leave if you object to such material. Also, this is NOT intended for minors; no one under the age of 18/21. If you have not yet reached whatever " legal age" is in your part of the world, then please exit! OR you remain here solely responsible for the consequences of your actions.
Otherwise, enjoy!
###30###
Having "crawled" back inside My Man's hairy, cum-filled dugout, I passionately stroked my bat slowly in and out. No bitchy honey-dos or shallow million dollar projects mattered more than grand slammin' pleasures of my thick, uncorked wood batting a .1000, low balls penetrating the strike zones with high-heatin', deep-seedin' DNA. Average THAT in your ERAs and Play Ball! I had fucked my share of women before marriage -and actually while married, prior to meeting and letting myself go with this awesome man below me. BUT... cummin' loads in his jock butt, and then fuckin' him again -using mostly my cream as sloppy seconds (and thirds and fourths and...)- was so much hotter than fucking some (female) pussy, especially the one I married. Not to mention, it made ME so much hornier, if THAT was possible! I mean when I wanted to fuck rough, unlike women, he was man enough to take it and man enough to usually want it that way. Not always, as we were both so ruggedly romantic and sensual that slow, long-dickin' and deep was as fulfilling as fast and forceful... but more times than not, THAT latter pace was VERY freeing of more than just an impatient and necessary jet-stream of spew. Subsequent fucks/sucks -- and otherwise, cum explosions- through our sessions, the rhythms became more at ease, of course. Seeing us together, and how stunning we looked next to each other(even IN our clothes), we "looked" like -- even without knowing our sexual orientation, we resembled (and related to) all forms of passionate, open-minded, nasty, loud horniness -- but especially the rapid fuck -n- fire, at least through the first round.
First rounds, fifth rounds... Whatever the round, over those aforementioned six long and lonely weeks, I hadn't so much forgotten what those rounds felt like so much as not allowing myself to remember those extraordinary "meatings" of our bods. And our bods needed to bond. Like oxygen, food and drinking water, our "sex" was in need of each other's sex.
THOSE meatings, of course, were far more exciting (and erotic, of course) than the (boring) meetings we had to deal with the rest of the week -- nay, though, necessary for our respective careers. Or the lackluster -- and lacking- sex at home and otherwise mundane existence beyond HIM -and without him. I came to the conclusion earlier on in that sexual, romantic sabbatical, as our days apart became more numerous, that it was JUST emotionally easier to (TRY) to think about something else, as much as I cared about him -- in and out of realm of sex.
At that moment in time, though, we were IN the realm -- at least I was... Literally! I was going BALListic in sex and lust.....AND LOVE... Oooooverload, again, as I thought how fantastic this fuck was... I WAS in HIS realm of fire. And HE was hot and wired up, horny-wise. All lubed up with MY man-juice -- he was juiced! With (sorta) relaxed ass muscles, and nowhere to go, except for me to seed and breed my need in his furry, yummy cum-dump. Even if he wanted to go someplace, I wouldn't have let him leave without fucking him. So, literally, he was screwed!
Two things made it special: I was with MY Stud AND we were so embraced in the deepest and wettest of kisses while I slowly teased his hole. Nothing mattered except our tongues sword-fighting and mating almost at the same time as his muscular arms pulled me even closer and deeper into the kiss and into totally fucking himself on my dick. I could feel powerful breaches of his fingernails into my upper delts; as if he was climbing a rocky cliff and needed a hole to grip. To a point, climbing towards orgasm in HIS hole needed strongholds, sometimes, and in that pursuit, we both involuntarily moaned -sometimes in unison- from the intense pleasure of it all.
Talking intense? The windows were probably steamed up by that time. More captivating was he stopped clawing at my flesh and his heavy-duty hands sensuously slid down my soaked, thick lats into my lower back, sending chills up my spine. Voraciously, he manhandled both my steamy ass cheeks, roughly squeezing, perforating them apart and then oppressively grinding them down so I'd skewer him even more wildly. It felt like he was going to absorb and swallow my throbbing, thick flesh through his anus.
I could just feel the sweat dripping off my face, the sounds of sultry bodies slapping together echoing across that freshly-fucked-smelling hotel room. The bed rockin' and rollin' only added to the air of rugged, strong men bonding and blending as one industrial-strength sex machine. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... Talk about the feeling like a man and being One with One! Fuck! Always for us -- and I mean always, it made for breathtaking headboard-bangin' ... In a kiss for the ages still raging, his brawny clutches were insatiably ravaging himself on my cock. So as if drilling for oil, I grounded and swirled my hips, pile driving my tool bit deeper as he forced his hips up to meet the strengths on top, pulverizing each other's hips, helped fuel by our solid physical, virile stoutness. Stamina and strongholds did rule at that point. The sensation overload, then, upgraded when he reached with a finger from each hand to touch the lips of my inner-darkness. Darkness, though, except to him. My hungry asshole wanting him as his sweaty fingers slid just inside. "Ooooooooh, sheeeet, buddy, that feels fantastic," I blurted out, breaking the kiss -if nothing else but to come up for air, as I reared my head back and closed my eyes in enjoyment, which was an understatement. Like being in another dimension, I just allowed the feeling to take me as he pushed his thick digits further into my ready hole. The lubrication was definitely there, partly from our sweating, and that's when the circular motion with my pelvis began to lay into his bowels even more, concentrating on his prostate to the point I wanted him to be in that same sexual, out-of-control dimension of unadulterated, hot blooded, near-release as he was making me. And I succeeded.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, fuck!" He shouted, "You beautiful whore, spear me with that hot thick dick!" looking up at me with the most fierce glare that meant business as he moaned so seductively. In a flash of an eye, he quickly pulled his hands up from my ass and clutched my head. If I'd had hair to grab onto, he would have grabbed a handful. Otherwise, he pulled my head back sharply and shot visual fire bullets into my baby blues, pleading in a raspy voice, "Fuck me!" He got more even demanding and louder. "FUCK ME!!! HARD!!!! DAMNANT!!!" His groaned rattled the walls as he took a deep breath and sternly commanded, "Fuckin' don't hold back. Breed me, Babe!" as he clinched my cock in the tightest vice HIS man-pussy could. Again, I thought his velvety ass walls were absorbing my cock.
It was my turn to be verbal.
"Sonnnnnnnnnnnnfaaaa-bitch!" My bass tones reverberated, almost out of breath. "Shit! Feeeeeeeeeeeeels sooooo fuckin'............... gawhhhhhd, maaaan."
In my deepest of thrusts, I held tight to my pole vaulted solidly in his hole. At that, he fingers were quickly deep into my hairy ass, again, as I arched back, eyes clutched tight.
"RAPE ME, JAKE! RAPE MY FUCKIN' ASS! I NEED IT! I NEED YOU!"
In opening my eyes to THE most handsomest of drenched tanned faces, his head back on the pillow, his mouth opened, eyes closed in mind-blowing ecstasy, I narrowed my eyes into my "Eye of the Tiger" glare and didn't need to be told twice on matters such as this. So, without abandonment, I savagely complied with his command.
His hands fell from my ass as I reared rapidly back, pulling out so only my huge dickhead was perched in his ass. In teasing unmercifully, I just barely slid in and out, and did that for a number of minutes while listened to him purr in pleasure and watched his lean, chiseled face appeal silently to me in that moment for more filling of his void. Since I'm not one to disappoint, in one harsh, shocking movement, I rigorously pushed his legs up to his head, originally slamming his feet flat against the headboard. Then I bent his respective knees so they paralleled either side of his ears. I moved my wet nose within an inch or two of his to his nose, framed by his legs, and let -for a few seconds, my sweat drain off my face and forehead, and "mark" my steaminess on him. I guess like cum and piss, I was marking my territory, so to speak, with another body fluid.
"I fuckin' own your ass, Stud!" hissing passionately through his thick, densely-haired quads. All he could do was aggressively nodded in willing agreement as he locked his knees back with his sweaty palms. "Shit! You are so tight and strong!" I sorta moaned out those slurred words as I felt the familiar ball-busting cum even without thrusting much. So I started to think of baseball stats to slow the process even more, but it was HARD, pun intended!
But THAT didn't last long, and as his demeanor hadn't changed in getting set to intimately enjoy what he needed and wanted, and, otherwise, what just plain
needed to be done. So I thought, `fuck the stats.'
It's FAWWWWKIN' TIME! Again! But who's counting?
By then, I was so out of my mind in lust. HARD dickin' is what I gave him with relentless thrusting. I mean no mercy and, my Love, was Man enough to take the attack. At that point, I'm not sure if I knew who I was -- this sexual, brawny beast!, but really didn't care except to achieve one goal. Okay, two!
I lost track of time, as time is not kept track of when we're THAT intimate, but I must have fucked him for half an hour. Maybe 45 minutes. I mean I let him have both barrels. Locked, cocked and loaded. This was not cum and run, and I was thankful I kept long workouts of quads/legs/squats on my agenda. He probably felt the same way, as there were at least a couple five minute sessions where his body would slip under me enough that -- and for more exercise (and change of pace)- I'd pushed up my weight on his quads, on my toes and did push up fuck- thrusts in his hole. By the first time I did that, lubrication was so plentiful that it was as if my cock WAS a fat piston going smoothly up and down in a well-oiled machine. It was so awesome to watch and even more hot to feel. Beyond words! And as I did those, his eyes never left mine as he put his respective hand on my respective hand driving down on his legs.
I loved the trust in that connection and all connecting "words" spoken were in the form of grunts, groans and moans. THAT was all that was needed. But somewhere in all that uncontrollable mental fog, I sensed him about to cum. Obviously, yearning for HIS still blue balls to cum, too, my personal sensors were continually jammed just keeping myself on the edge without cumming while having too much pleasure edging his prostrate to that torturous horniness. Trouble was, all good things must cum to an end. From out of nowhere my balls exploded sending through my missile... shots and shots of pure, overflowing baby-gravy. I may just cum in the last few hours, but THAT kind of release was long overdue.
Talk about fantastic muscle contractions; the kind where you can actually feel through the veins, through your cock tube, the thick cream cumming. As he felt five, six, seven propulsions of hot seed into him, I could barely hear him groan over my verbal thunder. I think I was grunting more than anything, as I buried my face into the pillow beside his head to keep from waking up the
neighbors(even more than we probably did). Somewhere in trying to catch my breath, my sex-fogged brain did register enjoying the "Being" of being totally sexually exhausted and beginning to feel so much more calmer as his legs released, relaxed, almost naturally surrounding my mid-body in love. It was one feeling I never wanted to end.
Funny how that is... but I hadn't come down from the sexual high -- and didn' t think he had either, when the animal in him completely took over. He hadn' t cum and was boiling over. He shifted hard and quick into that "need" stage of making up for not having it for so long! Even though in the restroom he (sorta)saw (and felt) ME that way, it's been awhile since I've seen him that aggressively horny.
He, again, manhandled me up off his bod and hurled my head downward into the pillow I was just moaning and screaming into, and didn't waste time bringing my ass off the bed and up into the air towards him. He knew what he wanted, and wanted it NOW. I thought he was going to rim me, but instead stuck three fingers all at once into my hole and twisted a couple times in half circles, catapulting me almost off the bed in sheer sexual bliss. Then, foregoing any more foreplay, he rapidly replaced his fingers with a piece of him much bigger, thicker and more fulfilling. Without any fanfare or any more lubrications than all our natural juices having mingled into my sweaty hole, pure seven by six man-stick of dynamite was lit and explosively heading for blast off in my very horny ass. I mean fucking deep in no time... up to his pubes resting on my butt cheeks in two point five seconds, if it actually took that long! Dark, thick hairy pubes to dark, hairy ass crack and cheeks, and just that feeling made me so glad he kept his body naturally hairy, and in tact, and didn't shave and/or trim. So beautiful, and felt on my ass like hairy heaven!
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so fuckin' horny for you!" he bent down and growled in my right ear. In another few long, deep thrusts, his glutton-for-sex-verbalness sounded lower as he reared up and took a hold of my hips...and that's where the niceties ended. "NOW, bitch, your fuckin' hot hole is ALL mine... Feel THIS in your throat, fucker!!!" With that he sunk so solid and tough, it took my breath away and I think I passed out for a split second. I gritted my teeth. Don't know if my eyes were opened or closed; it didn't matter. I force down my knees more into the bed, as he just held his meat deep in me, feeling the sweat dripping down into my ass making more lubrication.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, yeeeeahhhhhhhhhhhhh...."
I love his moans, as I felt him pull out a little and then rammed that rod in all the way to that very thick dick root, bouncing his big blistering balls off my dimpled ass. And it didn't matter how many times he'd cum, those balls are always huge and always ready to let loose of some luscious man-milk. Testosterone not only smelled good on him but also was always flowing, literally.
Like leverage with his vice-like left hand on the back of my neck, he still had my head buried, forcing further into the pillow. I just had this fleeting thought of (hoping, after all these years) that I trusted him enough in his sexual overdose state-of-mind to not suffocate me, as it would be HIS loss -- of course. Under that force I had to turn my head as best I could just to get some air as he railed my head into the pillow, smashing it even more against the rocking headboard.
It served, I guess, two purposes of burying my face further down; it was now a substitute as a shock-absorbing muffler for both screams of pleasure and pain. And, number two, for him to stretch my body out more towards the headboard to be able to fuck me deeper. I guess the headache was collateral damage, ya might say.
Of course, his right hand wasn't idle as he kept spanking my ass red to get my ass-muscles to open up even more. It worked. Besides, I think he liked my ass cherry red. He would have liked it cherry when we first met, but that wasn't meant to be.
His reaming was now even more ferocious in my yearning shelter. Talk about an ass on fire, and a man on a mission. Philosophically, like my outreached arms, my man-cunt WAS his shelter, but it was like he was on some power trip of dominance -all of a sudden, making His Bottom know his place, which was bullshit in my case. If he had been any other guy, I would have reared up and rearranged his face. He would have been bleeding in the corner.
My masculinity was definitely not in any jeopardy here, or he wouldn't be here, as HE knew he'd need stitches and an ambulance if it had been any other fucker "using" me like this. But, you see, I had fucked him to no-return and he KNEW I needed HIS fucking. He was THAT sensitive in that respect, but animalistic in certain others, but that is a good thing(mostly, usually!) I just didn't have time to enjoy the feast of his meat because all this was for him to get off and get off hard! But after all these years, he knew my self-confidence didn't allow his usage of rugged roughness to make me submissive or feminine in any way. Not literally his bitch, in any form, whatsoever. I was not surrendering anything to him except my unconditional love for him, even though, later, Ima gonna havta "learn" him some lessons about respecting thy elders. And it's not so much surrendering so much as wanting to be vulnerable to only him. He knew I didn't want any other fucker but him. He was the ONLY man I wanted fucking me. He was the only man that I would allow this hard lovemaking. The cool thing was, I knew the feelings were mutual and I was intuitive and sensitive enough to know that this total man -always soaked with testosterone, and man-enough to allow himself to BE vulnerable with me (not only emotionally, but sexually), was enough unspoken permission for him to penetrate MY dugout even deeper. Besides, it wasn't like he was waiting for permission.
Even if it was painful, I loved the pain-to-pleasure from him. Call it love or acceptance or just fuckin' horniness of his raw penetration, any discomfort I experienced was short-lived. It turned to pure ecstasy as he was hitting all the right buttons. So, to that, it was "constriction time" for the added effect of him seeing stars... AND the moon!
He did! But it was MY moon!
"Hooooly, shit! You fuuuuuuuuckin' slut!!!!! Uhhhhhhh, FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" I didn't bother quieting him. I was having too much fun in every fiber of my hormonal body and his hot, nasty verbalness only added to that special early morning round. Besides, THAT was him... and me! One of many things we had in common.
"I AM YOUR slut," I whispered, as I could almost feel the veins on his angry, tanned dick sliding along my inner walls. Like he had on a ribbed condom, which -in his fierce mauling- his sledge hammer would have torn in pieces, whacking and slamming me into sexual utopia. Without mercy, I shoved my ass back, forcing him like a fueled rocket into my ass. I guess, really, he had the rocket, and he WAS fueled. And too that point, our raggedly heavy breathing was hard enough and noticeable that my thrust back on his throbbing flesh was so commanding and demanding that I could actually hear his breath catch in his throat; as if he had to gulp to breath.
Gulped, he did; like choking on my cum. I liked it when I took his breath away, as the song goes, but he just held that rocket in my well-used missile silo and didn't move, almost slumping his hairy chest onto my smooth back to catch his balance and steady his masculinity. Like I had knocked him off his feet, if he had been standing.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm.. you muthafucka!!!" He blurted, trying to recover, taking another breath, and that's all it took for both of us to score again. "Hooooooooly, fuckin' shit," I screamed. "I am...............cummmmmin'.... A...... gainnnnnn...... You're...... fuckin' the cummmmmmmmm.... Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! Thaaaaat feels soooooooooo........."
With two beefy, convulsing bodies cumming simultaneously, sweat squishing, slouching everywhere, the moaning and groaning was now at a raucous pitch. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! Immmmmmmm... feeeeeeels so fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckin' gooddddd.... " I felt him propel his cock one last time for one last jet-stream and contraction, "Ooooohhhhhh, Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, you fuckin' StudMeat. Take that load, you sonfaaaaaa... Immmmmmmm cummmmmmmminnnnn" and I was feeling a little of his cock contract in me. But it was pretty much short-lived as partial exhaustion took over and all his weight dropped like a on-coming 18-wheeler onto my back, crushing my chest and abs into my newly-made lake of cum.
This bed was definitely going to need to be changed later by Housekeeping. Good thing these walls and bed sheets can't talk.
As his neck buried into my neck, I could gently feel him suck on my neck and rubbing against my neck stubble, turning me on STILL, as his heavy breathing began to subside in my right ear and his beating heart on my back. We knew, deep in our souls, how blessed we were to be there with each other, to have that Gift of being to COMPLETELY pleasure each other. THAT made the love making even more special, deeper, hotter... and orgasms extra explosive. "I love you so, so much, Jake," he whispered, composing his breathing enough to make me stiff, again, with his beautiful words. I know his sincere deep tone of voice came words of complete loving gratification, and not generated by sexual gratification. Those are the moments in time that separates the males from the real men. I WAS blessed!
"I love YOU, Marcus!" sounding squished -but very loving, as I turned my head as best I could across the pillow into his waiting lips. As we locked lips again, it felt so good and secure with him on top of me as his cock began to finally soften and slide out. I didn't want the security blanket to move, so he didn't! We couldn't get our kissing as deep, but it was just the act of being connected with (about) every part of our bodies. If it hadn't been for the well-constructed musculature, I would have felt like I was suffocating, again, under his muscle mass of flesh; but, again, what a way to go, drowning in his sweaty flesh.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... I may not walk well for a couple days, but it was well worth being bull-legged by a man-bull with a couple of bull-balls. In reality, though, we both needed the release, no questions, and no guilt. I almost think in the context of our love, knowing him, it WAS needed; the rougher, the better to get rid of not only sexual tension, but also life's tensions. Maybe we really ought to add a punching bag to his daily workouts to assist in alleviating SOME of that tension.
All this was demonstrating that it had been too long. We could NOT go long periods without... without fuckin'... let alone not seeing each other... and being with each other intimately. It hadn't been good for either of us, emotionally or physically. Too much built up on our prostates and needing-to-release blue balls. To be rational and levelheaded about this, there are certain urges that STILL need to be addressed, ya know? Needs that only another man could help with. And they needed to have been addressed yesterday, if you get my drift with the way things work in the corporate world. Cumming and deadlines do have something in common. The latter, though -- more times than not, will NOT have the fulfillment as the former, for numerous of obvious reasons. But, then, wives/sexless mates and the corporate world have common ground, too.
Five, maybe ten, minutes of silence passed. Neither of us moved, enjoying each other's body, including the wetness and aroma. All that was audible was (eventually) shallow -- more peaceful- breathing, which I was thankful for, of course. HIS breathing was music to my ears. I thought Marc was dozing -- or had fallen asleep, but his breathing never really changed. He must have been just refueling his jets -- and that rocket, as he reared up in one swift movement and pecked a reassuring kiss just below my buzzed hair and slid down to my wet hole. As sweaty as I was -- as we both were, it wasn't hard(so to speak) to slide down the valley in the middle of my broad back.
I closed my eyes in an afterglow haze. WOW! Very pleasant contentment, smelling the aromas of man-sex, but he did help soothe after that hard fuck: His tongue lapping my ass lips, swirling around up and down my great smellin' man-crack, and then traveled inside my asshole. Probably the most MASCULINE experience you can have with another guy.
Okay, the second most...
Okay, tied for second...
In that pure pleasure, I raised up off the bed on all fours so he could savor every drop of our combined juices. I could already feel a stream leaking down through my hair into my hot balls. And it wasn't cooling them off, either.
"MMMmmmmmm... " I moaned, as my body began to shake with passion, pushing back. "Stud, I love when you seed me..... but, just as mind-blowing...... uuuuuuuuhhhhhh... when.... oh, shit, that feels so... mmmmmmmmmmm... ahhhhhh-yeahhhhhhh....
In response, he just moaned real loud and long in my ass, which, of course, vibrated the hell out of still-raging lust. I reared my head back as my glazed-over stare beckoned towards the ceiling like a convulsing bronco. I WAS -actually, as I rode his tongue like a bronco into sexual horniness. He ran his wetness through the forest of hair straight up my crack and lowly moaned. "Oooooooooooooo, hell," moaning another range of notes, balancing my right hand on the bed as my left hand found the back of his head and pushed him forward into my butt. At that point, at any point in time with this stud, I could NOT get enough of him!
"Geez, we do taste good together! I love the way you smell and taste. There is just something about your ass, your whole hot body, that I want to lick and suck..."
He voice trailed off -- as if he was about to say something else, and as I looked over my shoulder to make a comment, he abruptly stopped his slurping long enough to manhandle me over to my back again. He rapidly went back to enjoying his very early breakfast of me and him, using that tongue like a small cock, thrusting it in and holding it there, massaging everything inside it could touch, including that certain prostrate button with his finger. I almost think he enjoyed felching as much as he did fucking, and he was an expert at both. Guess we had a lot of fun over the years experiencing and experimenting with each other. It's been really fulfilling that we've been able to find someone secure and safe to learn with. And then use that knowledge on each other.
Because of having a strong tongue, not to mention a little longer than most, his feasting was NOT short-lived as I propped my right hand under my head to enjoy the show and the far-reaching, far-ranging feeling of emotions that were also generating my dick hard. As I started to caress his buzz cut hair, I lowered my hand to stroke my now-again aching cock and his slapped my hand away.
"THAT's mine and my job," he barked jokingly, as he stopped long enough to look up my bod into my eyes. "You can do that when we're not together. As long as we're together sexually, you know we only bring each other off and that's MY cum in you!"
"Stud, you should know by now I don't jack off when we're NOT together," I trailed off as my slapped-away-hand was still fingering my furry belly button. "Just so you know, some of YOUR cum had been there long enough to grow cobwebs."
From the top of my hole, he didn't skip a beat but just looked up my bod into my eyes without commenting, and gave an evil smirk. As I looked down lovingly, without mercy, I gripped the back of his head and pushed his face further into my ass while I was enjoying my right pit, which was making the air smell ripe... and manly. With his tongue inside me, he looked up, again, admiringly over my hardened, dripping dick, across my heaving chest into my sultry blue eyes, then over to my moist, sweaty pit. As he pushed his right forefinger up my hole along side his tongue, his attacked of my prostrate, again, and about brought my over the edge... again.
"Ooooooooooooh, you sluuuuuut," I screamed low as I could feel my eyes rolled into back of my head. "Plow into me with those fingers!!!"
At that, he pushed his finger further into my saturated hole, lightly licking, teasing and torturing. I heaved my chest, eyes tightly shut enjoying the finger fuck, my head involuntarily dug deeper into the damp pillow, my bod was on auto-pilot and had lost control a long time ago. What a high I wish I could bottle...
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, shit, buddy. Griiiinnnnd those fuckin' fingers in." He did. "Son-faaaa-bitch! That feels soooooooooooo..." It's like I passed out again, as I could only finish that half sentence with non- understandable tones. His inner-ass finger massage was feeling as good as being fucked. He was so far in me I thought he was going to fist me, which would have been a first. But it was two fingers and, within a few seconds, three.
As he grounded and twisted, he raised his body upwards, licking my furry sea of hair on my defined abs, lightly teasing my dense treasure trail to my pecs. In wonderment to what he had on that sensual, sexual brain, I slightly opened my eyes to the most beautiful billion-dollar smile a man could ever have on a slushy face having soaked and played in my hairy, cum-filled dugout.
###30###
Copyright 2006. JockCeman. All Rights Reserved.