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He cuddles like no puppy you’ve ever had, and his ability to serve a man’s cock–I don’t know who taught him how to suck dick, but whoever it is, I salute you. Sometimes the guy practically cums just from me rubbing that hot, no-longer-still-a-jock-but-not-quite-yet-a-dad-bod bod. That is, I will gladly kneel behind his sweet ass and fuck him for as long as he wants me to.Īnd boy, does he want me to. This life of his, it’s the life that life’s given him in part, and that he’s chosen in part, and he’s decent enough to stand by his promises–mostly–and so, I figure, I can stand with him all that, love him as he comes to me, enjoy him, and then move on. You leave it there, let it grow as it is, and love it. No asshole actually wades into the pond and picks the lily pad out of its environs. I love the guy, the way you love a lily pad. But I don’t see it that way, and not just because he’s an eager fuck, or because his ass is the tightest piece I’ve ever had. People would call him a hypocrite, married to a woman, going to mass every Sunday, raising five kids to be hetero-normative breeders like him, and all the while slipping away to get naked with me and be my little Honey Bunny. Not many men would appreciate him like I do–I know that. It’s almost 4:45, and rush hour will be a serious bitch for him, but I think I’ll let him sleep. He laughed more, wiggled his butt more, sucked more. “Atta boyyyyy! Who’s my sexy boy? Huh? WHO’S MY SEXY BOY?” He stayed latched on this hot jock penis and then, shyly, wiggled his butt. He laughed more, and for a minute, I thought he’d pull off, but he didn’t. He paused, then laughed, struggling to keep my dick on his tongue. He looked up at me, lips tightly stretched. Given those sweet, eager eyes and desperation in his sweat, today was a good day to find out. So far, he’d always gotten real nervous and jumpy when I touched it. I rubbed his scalp and listened with fatherly satisfaction at his nom nom nom sounds as he suckled my wiener and I eyed his ass. He wasn’t good at sucking dick, but he was getting better. They, meaning his wife and kids, the requisite condition of respectability that made him feel so secure, tamped-down, and tame that he got hard and horny just from standing around in undies and a sweatshirt. “They went to the beach a couple hours ago, so we got a good bunch of time.” He giggled again and rubbed his own winger-dinger. “Aw, only two? I need three to fuck my daddy.” I rubbed my balls. My shorts slid to my ankles I kicked them off.
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“Two hours.” He looked back at me with those thrilled eyes, so full of expectation. He glanced at his watch–yeah, the dude still used a watch. I stepped back and pulled off my shirt, letting him get a good gander at this hot college-boy torso.
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Just standing there in more than I wear to the beach got him all hot and bothered and feeling naughty-naughts, all because he was fucking desperate for a sexual thrill or two. He kept swallowing his giggles and turning red. “Daddy’s being dirty,” I whispered in his ear. He giggled more, and even more as I stepped up and fondled his dad dick through his tighty whities. “Yeahhhh.” I made a point of sounding really, really turned on. He was waiting for me as soon as I came up to the loft, his eyes eager, face flushed.