weakly. We hadn’t gotten to hand jobs, yet, either
Posted on: September 26, 2008
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| "Oh, God, aaron." Wayne whispered huskily. "What a package you’ve got. What are you? Seven, eight inches?"
"Eight," I said, with some pride.
"And these balls. Like cannonballs."
"I’m glad you approve. But you know, you’ve just gone to $111 and beyond. You were supposed to stop with feeling what you could with the jeans on. You’ve gone beyond that. Uh, oh, God. Gawd!" His hand was flying all over my prick and balls, and his fingers played in my pubic hair. "Stop that, I said weakly. We hadn’t gotten to hand jobs, yet, either."
"Technically wrong on both counts," Wayne said breathily. "First, your jeans aren’t
gonna suck my cock or are you gonna write a fucking sonnet about it?” |
