Last Night

[gutterpunkhunk]

I woke up to the warm, sticky sensation of his cum slowly leaking out of my asshole. The tang of it reminded me of the sweet, earthy flavor of freshly turned soil after spring rain. My body was sore and achy in the best possible way as if I had just gone for a run in the nude through a field of wildflowers. I smiled to myself, savoring the memories of the night before.

It all started when I was out at the bar with some friends. I had been eyeing him across the room for a while, admiring his tall, broad frame and the way he moved. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest and showed off his defined abs, and a pair of worn-in jeans that fit his long, muscular legs like a glove. Something about him exuded an air of confidence and dominance that made me feel weak in the knees.

As the night wore on, I summoned the courage to approach him. We struck up a conversation, and it turned out we had a lot in common. He told me he was an artist, and I was instantly drawn to his passion and creativity. Before I knew it, we were leaving the bar together, him leading me by the hand through the bustling streets. He lived in a modest, but cozy apartment just a few blocks away, and as we walked inside, I couldn't help but notice the way his dong swayed gently beneath his jeans. It was long and thick, and I found myself growing increasingly aroused by the sight of it.

He offered me a drink, and we sat down on his comfortable, worn-in couch. As we talked, my eyes drifted down to his lap, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I couldn't take my eyes off of his dick, and before long, my pants had grown uncomfortably tight. It was then that he must have sensed my desire because he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Do you want to see something special?" I nodded eagerly, my heart racing with anticipation

[faggot4play]

57 minutes ago, BroHole said:

I woke up to the warm, sticky sensation of his cum slowly leaking out of my asshole. The tang of it reminded me of the sweet, earthy flavor of freshly turned soil after spring rain. My body was sore and achy in the best possible way as if I had just gone for a run in the nude through a field of wildflowers. I smiled to myself, savoring the memories of the night before.

It all started when I was out at the bar with some friends. I had been eyeing him across the room for a while, admiring his tall, broad frame and the way he moved. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest and showed off his defined abs, and a pair of worn-in jeans that fit his long, muscular legs like a glove. Something about him exuded an air of confidence and dominance that made me feel weak in the knees.

As the night wore on, I summoned the courage to approach him. We struck up a conversation, and it turned out we had a lot in common. He told me he was an artist, and I was instantly drawn to his passion and creativity. Before I knew it, we were leaving the bar together, him leading me by the hand through the bustling streets. He lived in a modest, but cozy apartment just a few blocks away, and as we walked inside, I couldn't help but notice the way his dong swayed gently beneath his jeans. It was long and thick, and I found myself growing increasingly aroused by the sight of it.

He offered me a drink, and we sat down on his comfortable, worn-in couch. As we talked, my eyes drifted down to his lap, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I couldn't take my eyes off of his dick, and before long, my pants had grown uncomfortably tight. It was then that he must have sensed my desire because he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Do you want to see something special?" I nodded eagerly, my heart racing with anticipation

please continue....this story could be about me ....and many others here !!