I bent over his lap, took the head of his hard cock into my mouth, and slurped up a gob of salty-sweet precum through his piss slit. He flinched in the cuffs, hissed through his teeth. "You're so pathetic," he whispered bitterly, though I could hear the sex in his voice.
I bent my fingers and found it again, that swollen knob of him a couple inches past the entrance to his chute. I pressed into it, massaged it at varying intervals. He sounded like an animal in heat, a gorilla rutting in the jungle.
a different kind of tale of the Barkley men that was not revealed when the iconic television show aired back in the late 1960s...the show is already in progress, so enjoy...surprises await...(and completely fabricated)...
I stepped behind him, ran my hands over his broad back, around the front of his waist, embracing him in an intimate way, like a lover. It felt naughty, knowing it was largely against his will.
I hope those four narratives have given you some idea of the work Bullies, Inc. does. Yes, my methods are very unconventional and fall into in a grey area outside of society's norm, but I have found there is always a need for my type of service.
I shoved my shorts and jock down to free my own cock. It wasn't quite hard but it was getting there. My cock didn't snap to like a lot of guys, I guess because it was so damned big it took awhile for that much blood to get down there.
I groaned and tried to pull away from him, but he held me too tight, one hand clasped around the back of my head. I was wide-eyed with shock. I never expected anything like this, never a day in my life. He smashed his mouth harder against mine and his tongue raked back and forth across my lips that I kept tightly closed.
On the way to the motel to meet Rich, I couldn't get our phone conversation out of my mind. Rich wanted to fuck me. He wanted to fuck my ass. I had chills up and down my spine every time I rewound the conversation back in my head. Up till that time, I hadn't even wondered what it would be like being on the receiving end of a hard cock in my ass.
Joe Dickerson returned from the construction site at the end of the day just in time to see the new guycoming out of the trailer. He hadn't met him yet, but there was a lot of talk about him showing up for his interview wearing preppy jeans and a short-sleeved shirt with a button-down collar and new tennis shoes.
The excitement caused precum to gush out into his hair. I squeezed my cock to stop the flow. Rich leaned back, lapping his way up the underside of my cock.
It was one of those rare times when the day was over before the sun went down. Doug Brady finished drying off beside his bunk and slipped into a pair of white briefs. Then he dug out the only letter he'd gotten at mail call from his locker. It was only the second letter he'd received from Scott, his best friend from high school, since he'd been in basic.
Brocker was a major leaguer who had been in the papers and all over the news for speaking out so bluntly against gays and coloreds. They were sending him back to the minors to get his head on straight and get his shit together; a form of sensitivity training, they said.
I had been give the chance to live in the house with all of the 12 students and the coach while I worked as a housekeeper. I was nervous but extremely excited about living with all these hunky men.
My cock was rock hard now and Darren put his arm around me. I cuddled up and enjoyed the show. After 10 minutes the scene had finished with the man taking two loads of cum in his mouth.
I worked plenty of lube into my hole, never taking my eyes off the throbbing piece of manhood that towered in front of me. I figured, worst case, I could go about halfway or two thirds of the way down on it, and spare myself from getting ripped open.