Goodnight, John Boy
This story is a work of fiction.
It contains sexual content involving persons under the age of consent
be inappropriate for you or illegal where you live. I do not condone
actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this
This story is probably
copyrighted, but I reserve no rights.
Use as you see fit.
- If you are under legal age to view this material where you live,
please go no further. What follows could really screw you
something wholesome, like the Bible. May I recommend Gen. 19:32
- If you are offended
by this type of material, please speak with a mental health
professional as soon possible-- they may be able to explain how you
found yourself on this page.
- If the subject is illegal where you live, your government
knows you're here. I promise this story is not be worth going to
you like being plowed by violent, diseased, 'heterosexual' men.
Come to think of it, I think I recall reading something like that here
Other stories on
by Mark Adams:
of Adam - My first attempt at publishing a short story on Nifty.
of My Heart - A very brief memoir of a gay youth.
the Nifty Archive.
Goodnight, John Boy - Chapter 1
My wife and her best friend,
Angie, were going out for a girls' night out, and I was at home
watching my son, Brandon, and Angie's kids, Jackie and John.
Jackie was a bratty little 10 year old, but she was a cute little
blonde, and she knew it, and poor little nine year old Brandon
was caught in her web. I suppose that's one of the downsides to
being a healthy, budding heterosexual. I, however, am immune to
the wily ways of the opposite sex. Know why? Go on, just
Brandon and Jackie were lying on the floor in front of the television,
playing video games, the only light in the room from the
television. They always argued when they played, and I
actually found it amusing. Invariably, Jackie cheated her ass
off. She'd reset the game in the middle if she wasn't winning or
if Brandon was doing well. She'd unplug his controller. Brandon,
like any 9 year old, would freak out, and try to get me involved.
"Sorry, buddy," I'd tell him. "You don't have to play, you
know..." Brandon would sulk, but keep at it.
John, on the other hand, never played video games that I ever
saw. He was good at everything else he did, it seemed, so I have
assume he truly didn't care for the games. He was one of those
'quiet' boys. You know, the kind that draw you in with their few,
carefully chosen words. John would speak so quietly, I almost
always had to stop whatever I was doing and move closer to him just to
hear what he was saying.
John was sitting on the couch and I was sitting on the other end.
I glanced sideways at him, just checking on him. And checking him
out, I guess. He's an attractive boy and, though he's not the most
beautiful boy in the world, he's sure easy on the eyes. A bit on
the small side as far as 12 year olds go, and thin. But I like
thinner boys. And small boys. He had lovely, large blue
a hint of gray, and he had a smattering of freckles across his small,
slightly upturned nose. Not too many, but enough that they
looked, well... sexy. He had full lips, and he had the habit of
licking them. Lucky boy, I sometimes wished I could lick them
I noticed movement on the other end of the couch and, as I glanced
over, I saw he was sitting there, one leg still underneath him, but now
he had propped his right leg up and his arm was wrapped around it,
holding it in place. He'd already gotten ready for bed since the
ladies weren't due back until the early hours of the morning, so he was
just wearing his pajama shirt and light blue shorts. And, as fate
would have it, the thin material of his shorts were gathered in such a
way that, even in the dim light of the living room, I could see
straight up the leg of his pajama shorts-- all the
way up to the point where I could see the flesh of his upper thigh and
the edge of the elastic of his white briefs, which seemed to glow in
the light from the TV. He was in just the right
position that his underwear were pulled slightly away from his thigh,
and I thought I could see a peek of flesh, most likely his
scrotum. I couldn't be sure, but quiet boy had my full attention
I'd known John since he was about 4 years old, so I'd seen him in
various states of undress many times over the past 8 years and,
throughout the years, I'd often gotten sneak views up the leg of his
shorts, or of the waistband of his underwear. I'd never seen him
fully naked, though I'd often been treated to him in just his underwear
while at my home or, more often, his own. And I had seen him
progress from cartoon underwear to white briefs, and now he was in a
boxer phase. I liked them all, of course, but I was intrigued a
he was wearing his white briefs this evening. Perhaps he had
gotten some new ones or maybe he was wearing an old pair. I'd
always found him alluring but, as always, I was 'content' to remain a
voyeur. I'd never put either of us in any compromising
position. He had always been a fairly affectionate boy, and he
was still young enough that he often sat on my lap, despite his
age. But I'd never done anything scandalous.
I looked back toward the television, pretending to watch the game, but
I adjusted my position slightly on the couch and made full use of my
superhuman peripheral vision, a superpower, I admit, used more for evil
the good of mankind. Even so, I kept glancing back at him from time to
time (ok, all the time) and I found myself holding my breath, waiting
for him to move. You know how it is... he could move and expose
more of his goodies or end the show. I enjoyed the waiting, and
watching. My own penis was nearly fully erect at this point, but
there was no way anyone could see it with the way I was seated.
My legs were folded under me and I was leaning into the arm of the
couch on my right side.
While he didn't adjust his position, John's hand began gently rubbing
the underside of his thigh, and I longed to do the same for him.
Over the next couple of minutes or so, I noticed his fingertips drifted
down further, down to the leg band of his briefs, and his middle finger
gently rubbed along the edge of the leg band and the bit of exposed
skin before returning back up the course of his naked thigh. I
noticed in the dim light of the living room that I could see a hint of
peach fuzz along the lower part of his shins, but nowhere else.
The next time his hand trailed down toward his shorts, it lingered
there a few seconds before repeating his previous rub across the cotton
material. But this time, his hand remained in that position. His
finger rubbed along the crevice between his underwear and his leg, and
I nearly fainted. He was touching himself not 3 feet away from
me. Unintentionally, I inhaled sharply as he ran his finger
across the smooth skin there, slightly pushing the leg band further
from his body, and I looked at him directly. With his hand where
it was, I still couldn't see anything, but I knew I would if his hand
moved back up. And I willed him to move his hand.
At that point, John turned his eyes away from the television and they
flashed over to me, perhaps realizing he was being watched. I
returned my stare to the video game, but could still see him looking at
me for a moment before his eyes returned to the television. His
tongue licked at his upper lip before returning his gaze to the
game. But he didn't adjust his position, or close his legs.
When his hand glided back up his thigh, he rested his hand on his knee,
and... my eyes eased back toward him, slower this time. I didn't
want him to move.
There, beside me, I could see the leg of John's underwear was pulled
slightly away from his thigh and I could see perhaps half of one of
John's testicles suspended in its hairless sac. I could see, too,
the crease of his ass where it met his thigh. By this point, my
cock was straining in my boxers and sweat pants, begging for
release. I pressed it down further and held it between my thighs,
and I could feel a drop of precum against my own thigh. Had he
left his nut hanging there for me to see? Was it an accident?
A few short minutes later, his left hand went to his lap, and just held
it there. I shifted slightly to ensure the best possible viewing
angle. After what seemed like an eternity, he began fingering the
hem of his pajama shorts. He gently pulled them up enough that I
could now see a little more of his underwear, and I could see a lovely
lump where his penis was outlined in cotton. His index finger
pushed on the mass, causing it to shift slightly... toward the leg
band. Ever so slightly, and slowly, he seemed to be massaging his
cocklet toward the edge. I now felt certain he was doing this
intentionally, although he kept his view squarely on the
television. And, even though this was clearly intentional, what
were his intentions?
I was stuck. There wasn't much, really, that I could do. If
I scooted over, I risked not only shattering his resolve and ending the
show prematurely but also scaring him. And I didn't want either
of those outcomes.
"Dad!" Brandon shrieked.
"Huh?" I answered, slightly distracted and confused. So closely
had I been focusing on John and his tender nugget, I'd nearly forgotten
he and Jackie were even in the room. As I turned my head toward
Brandon, I saw John pull his legs back together, his hand brushing the
back part of his shorts to be certain everything was covered.
"Dad," Brandon said again as he stomped over to the couch, a pout on
his face. I made sure that I, too, was presentable, and placed my hands
in my lap. "Jackie's cheating again!"
"Ok," I said sternly. "I've about had it with both of you."
Jackie didn't even bother turning away from the screen. "If I
hear one more..."
"But, DAD," he said, raising his voice. "She's CHEATING."
His arms crossed his chest and he stuck his head forward as if to
accentuate the obvious injustice of it.
"Did you just interrupt me?" I asked him, looking at him as if I were
shocked. He looked down, and he knew what was coming. From
the corner of my eye, I could see John watching me. "Video games
are... games," I said brilliantly. "Games are supposed to be..."
I said, leading him to answer.
"They're supposed to be fun," Brandon said, accentuating the word 'fun'
slightly. He'd heard this one before, of course, many
"That's right," I told him. "And when you get upset, then..."
"Then it's no longer fun," he responded correctly. "But," he
continued, "games also have rules. And breaking the rules makes a
fun game..." He was leading me this time, and I had to laugh
"Not fun," I answered. He smiled as if he'd just won the
debate. "Which means it's no longer a game. And you know
what that means..." Jackie was playing the game frantically now,
since she also knew what was coming.
"But I didn't do anything wrong," Brandon whined.
"Maybe not," I said, "but you two either need to play nicely, or put
the game up." Brandon's eyes were wide, as if terrified at the
threat I had to level nearly every day. I knew Jackie was
cheating, and I knew nothing I said was going to change that. She
wasn't my kid.
Brandon turned and huffed back to where he had been lying on his
stomach, and plopped down on his ass, his arms still crossed in
indignation. I looked over toward John and saw a tiny smile at
the edges of his pouty lips. He, of course, had nothing to
add. I figured John's show was over and, now that my erection had
subsided, I adjusted my sweat pants, stood and got up and went to the
kitchen to get a drink. When I returned to the living room, I
noticed John had moved to the center cushion of the couch.
Curiouser and curiouser...
I returned to where I had been sitting earlier, setting my drink on the
side table, and John just looked over at me briefly. "Do you want
a turn?" I asked him, easing into the cushion, knowing he wouldn't want
to play, but feeling it my responsibility to be a good host.
He shook his head side to side to tell me he did not. "I'm going
to bed in a few minutes," he said softly, nearly setting a record for
the number of words used by him in a single sentence.
He pulled his legs up onto the couch, and our legs touched. Now,
ordinarily this wouldn't mean anything. But I was a still a
little worked up from the scene earlier on this very couch. In
all the time I'd known him, I had lusted after him from afar. But
something felt, well... different tonight. After a minute or two,
he scooted over and slid into my lap effortlessly. "Good
boy," I thought. "He knows he's driving." He squirmed
into me, making himself (and myself) comfortable, and I felt my penis
almost immediately fill out a bit. He leaned back into me, and I
looked down over his shoulder to his lap. As is often the case, I
couldn't really tell if the fabric was pressed out on its own or if boy
parts were helping out a bit.
He shifted, lifting his legs a bit and turning them both to his right,
and I could clearly see the line of his underpants through his flimsy
shorts, making its way from low on his hip to somewhere near his firm
butt cheeks. I couldn't resist placing my left hand on his hip,
and I let my fingers extend across his hip to where the tips of my
fingers were resting on the line of his underwear. He leaned
further to his right, pushing his rump a bit further into my fingers
and pulling the fabric of his pajama bottoms tighter across his
seat. I briefly let my fingers glide very gently along the line
of his leg band through the jammies, seeing if there would be some
reaction, positive or negative. He placed his left hand atop
mine, and I still wasn't quite sure how to read him. To further
gauge his comfort, I ran my fingers along the same path while his hand
was on mine. His pinky finger rubbed furtively across the back of
my hand. Hmm...
By this point, my cock was about half erect, and I thought he might be
able to feel it, but perhaps not. I moved my hand further down
his thigh, just past the hem of his shorts and rubbed it with just my
thumb. His hand moved to my face, and rubbed the stubble on my
cheek before placing it back in his lap. I slowly moved my thumb
back up a bit, 'accidentally' lifting the edge of his shorts with my
thumb and, pushing it slightly up his thigh. It was as smooth as
a freshly shaved lady's leg, soft and silky, yet rock hard
beneath. I slid my hand up his thigh a little more, pulling the
bottom edge of his shorts up along with it until my thumb touched the
leg of his briefs. By now, I was fully erect, and there was no way he
couldn't feel my cock now, lifting up into the space between his right
thigh and his stomach. And still he did nothing.
The kids on the floor in front of us were so intent on their game that
they had not turned around, and it occurred to me that I was molesting
my wife's best friend's 12 year old boy not ten feet away from my
son. But my libido was now more in control than my rational
mind, and I toyed with the edge of his underwear for a few minutes
before I slipped my index and middle finger just under the edge of his
underwear, running them along his hip. I drew my fingers a bit
higher still on his thigh, pulling his underwear up an inch or so, and
then slid my hand down his hip, resting my hand on the curve of his
John shifted his body to the left, back into a more normal sitting
position without adjusting his underwear. My erection was pressed
into an awkward position, resting along his butt and right hip as he
leaned back onto my chest. I didn't try to adjust myself because
below me, looking down over his shoulder to his lap, I saw his little
blue shorts tented with an obvious erection and he was making no
attempt to cover it up. He lifted the bottom edge of his shirt a
bit, just above his belly button, exposing his tight little
belly. He tilted his head and looked up to my face, a nervous
smile on his face, and then looked back toward the TV.
I wrapped my arms around him, placing them on his thighs, putting my
fingers just under the shorts, and I saw his shorts twitch from
beneath. I slid my fingers up further until I was touching the
outside of his briefs. The soft cotton felt coarse next to his
skin, but as I traced the fabric of his fly over his rigid shaft with
my fingers, it felt like heaven to me. I just left my hands where
they were for a bit, simply admiring how erotic it looked with my my
hands inside his shorts, his shaft poking up the shorts between them.
My fingers resumed their discovery, and my right finger snaked into the
little fly that was stretched by his pole, and I felt his silky smooth
sac, just below his penis, for the first time. He shuddered and I
saw his penis flex in his shorts, with mine flexing along his back in
time with his. He moved his arms up behind him, and he laced his
hands behind my neck. As I looked toward his face, I saw his eyes
were closed, and his lashes were fluttering, his face peaceful. I
double-checked that the kids were still wrapped up in their game before
pulling his fly forward and to the left with one hand, while pulling
his penis through the fly. The tent in his lap was now even more
pronounced, and I could feel my pulse in my ears, in my cock, and in my
chest. He sighed quietly.
I ran my finger up his shaft, which appeared to be just a little over
three inches, and I felt his firm, but spongy head. I ran my
index finger across the tip of his penis and I felt a slickness there,
surprising me slightly for some reason. But I was delighted as
well. As I ran my finger and thumb together, I could feel the
slippery substance and I extracted my hand from his shorts, bringing it
up to my mouth and sneakily tasting his essence. This boy was
divine. I had often read that a boy's young semen tasted sweet,
and I found that to be entirely true.
I returned my hand to his lap, and slowly lifted the leg of his pajama
bottoms out of the way and I beheld the most strikingly beautiful penis
my eyes have ever seen. I would guess he was right at three
inches and about as thick as my little finger. His scrotum was so
small and tight, I could barely see it from my angle. He appeared
to be uncut, his skin having
pulled back during my ministrations, and his knob had a slightly bluish
hue, coated in a generous portion of precocious precum, shining in the
somewhat dim light of the television's glare. At some point, he
had opened his eyes again, and I could see him staring quizzically at
his exposed phallus, as if it belonged to someone else. I placed
my thumb and first three fingers delicately on his shaft, pulling up
slightly to bring his foreskin over his head. I marveled at the
beauty of his hood as it tapered past his glans, the skin gathered up
together at the tip. His erection was firm, and his foreskin
somewhat tight, outlining perfectly his precious knob.
I leaned my face toward his, and whispered into his ear, "Do you want
me to tuck you in?" He nodded his head against my chest, and I
stood, not bothering to tuck him back into his shorts. I adjusted
my crotch through my sweats, and he watched as I did so, before I took
his hand and led him down the hall to the guest bedroom, his willy
wiggling in front of him from under the leg of his shorts.
We entered the guest room, where the kids stayed when they spent the
night, which was fairly often since their parents were divorced and
their mother often needed a place to stash the kids while she sought
Dad #2. They each had a bed and a dresser with a few changes of
clothes. I followed John into the room, closing and locking the
door behind me. There was enough light from the moon through the
windows (and the night light in the room) that I didn't bother turning
on a lamp. I sat on John's bed, and he was standing before me,
his pricklet still poking out from under the shorts, though mostly
covered now. His hood still covered his head, and I found it just
as sweet as can be.
I placed my hands on each of his hips, and gently pulled him toward
me. I had no way of knowing what was on his mind, but the
erection at least gave a clue. I slipped off the bed to my knees,
and I slowly peeled his shorts and underwear down off his hips and past
his peter. I loved how his penis popped up when his clothing got
to his thighs, and his tool was sticking straight up, nearly touching
his belly. He had a light blue vein along his abdomen, and while
he didn't have a 'six-pack' he did have a very firm, very flat
stomach-- I could almost wrap my hands around his waist, or so it
appeared. His tiny testes were the size of grapes and were pulled
up tightly to his body in their wrinkled bag.
I placed my hands back on his hips, my fingers reaching onto his
cheeks, leaving his shorts and underwear suspended on his thighs.
"May I?" I asked, leaving the question hanging intentionally as I
nodded toward his penis. He nodded his head, and that told me he
knew, at least to some degree, what we were about to do.
"Show me yours," he whispered and, as usual, his soft voice caught me
by surprise. I hadn't expected that, remembering what a selfish
lover I was when I was younger. I raised my eyebrows, and he
nodded once in reply. I
stood before John, and his eyes grew large as he gawked at my
stretched sweats. Before I could slip down my pants, he reached
his hands out, a bit more assertively than I would have
expected, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband. He looked up
to me with doe eyes, shining even in the low light of the room, and I
nodded for him to continue.
He returned his gaze to my swollen pants and brought his thumbs
downward, pulling my sweat pants and boxers toward the floor and
shifting my aching cock off to the right along my hip. He stopped
as my bush appeared above the waist of my pants, and his right hand
moved over to it, running his fingers through my hair admiringly,
pulling it slightly. I saw his tongue run along his top lip
as he watched his hand run through my pubes. He adjusted his hand
and very gently felt the coarse hair between his thumb and fingers
for a moment before returning his hand to the waist band.
He continued pulling down my pants and paused only a second or two as
the head of my dick revealed itself above the pants, sticky with my
precum. He pulled my sweats and underwear down to the point where
my dick flopped forward to a 45 degree angle and my balls were swinging
He broke contact then and quickly pushed his own shorts and underwear
the rest of the way down his legs to his ankles. In one fluid
motion he took a step forward, stepping out of his shorts, bending
slightly at the knees, placed his hands on my hips, and surprisingly
took the sopping head of my cock between his full lips. I jumped
slightly at the touch and groaned as I watched my cock fill the small
boy's warm mouth, his full lips encircling my swollen shaft, just
beyond the glans. He pulled me forward by my hips, pushing a bit
more of my cock into his mouth, scraping me just slightly along his
pearly whites as he did so.
"Hey," I whispered softly, and his gorgeous eyes looked up toward my
own, my engorged shaft still in his mouth. "Watch your teeth,
ok?" He nodded a bit before tilting
his head back down and closing his eyes. He moved one hand to the
base of my shaft, pulling me downward slightly for a better angle, and
eased down to his knees, bending me even further until my cock was
parallel to the floor. His left hand moved from my hip to my
buttocks and pulled me further into him. I could only see the top
of his head and down his back to his sweet ass as he began to bob his
head back and forth, up and down my cock. This beautiful, small
boy was taking me in to his mouth up to his hand at the base of my
cock, and I could feel myself slightly entering his throat. I
could hear him breathing somewhat deeply through his nose, but he
apparently had no gag reflex or had learned to control it.
I could feel my orgasm approaching and part of me wanted to blast away,
just thinking of the steady stream of precum I knew was oozing into
John's throat. Another part of me, however, wanted to savor this
moment and I bent at the waist, pulling my cock out of his mouth.
He looked up at me, confused. "I don't want to cum yet," I told
him quietly, and he nodded in understanding, licking his already wet
lips. I took his hand and he raised off his knees. I moved
backward and sat on his bed, pulling him toward me, his boy
cock directly in front of my face. I stared at his moist foreskin
and my mouth watered.
I leaned forward while pulling him by his buttocks toward me until his
spike was at my face. I inhaled through my nose, and I could
smell his luscious cocklet, a little sweet, a little pungent, and
entirely wonderful. I poked my tongue out to his hood, still
covering his head. I flicked my tongue on his tip, working out a
tiny taste of boy juice. I was instantly addicted. I had to
have his boy cock in me now!
I pulled him, almost frantically, into my mouth and he almost tumbled
into me as he regained his footing. His three inches barely
reached the back of my mouth as I pulled him forcefully into me,
sucking vigorously. My nose pressed firmly into his tummy until I
couldn't breath. I ran my fingers into the crack of his ass,
pulling his cheeks apart and pressing my middle finger against his hole
and I began jacking him off with my mouth, back and forth. I
could taste him leaking into my mouth and I could hear quiet boy
panting, almost whining as I eased my finger just into his anus.
He bent forward a little, pushing his ass onto my finger a little
further, but pulling his weenie mostly out of my mouth, leaving just
head and hood between my lips.
I pushed my finger a bit more into his chute while pushing his cocklet
back into my mouth. He whimpered, and I looked up. I saw
his head tilted backward in ecstasy and I felt his dick pulse slightly.
I closed my eyes, wanting to memorize every detail.
And then, I felt his semen start to trickle into my mouth. Not a
but enough that I could somehow distinguish between my saliva and his
boy cum. His cock started rhythmically pulsing, and then I could
feel a jet of juice squirt into the back of my throat, then
another. My mouth was filled with a nutty, sweet flavor unlike
any I'd ever experienced in my life. I heard little yips
emanating from my young lover, followed by moans. As he thrust
deeply into my mouth, he grabbed the sides of my face to steady
himself. He pulled me into him and then held me there firmly, his
little dick twitching against the back of my throat. I held him
there until his orgasm subsided, his prick still erect.
After a short while, he extracted himself from my mouth, taking a
couple steps back and looking at me with disbelief, and... lust.
His small cock was still fully erect, not having subsided a bit.
He looked over his shoulder toward his sister's bed and he turned,
giving me a view of his perfect globes, glowing in the moonlight.
I could still see my hand print on his right cheek where I'd gripped
him. He took the two or three steps to her nightstand, picking up
a bottle of her girl lotion from the nightstand before returning to
He handed me the bottle of lotion without saying anything. Was he
thinking what I was thinking?
He turned around, and backed into me, his ass now in my face and
bending over slightly. I set the lotion down, and reached out to
him, pulling his cheeks apart and staring into his tiny pucker. I
leaned into him and stuck my tongue out, running it over his little
hole, slightly protruding from my assault. He squirmed a little,
and looked over his shoulder at me, pressing back into my tongue.
I could smell him, mostly fresh but slightly nasty, and I lapped at his
morsel. He was grunting like a little piglet. After a
minute or so, he stopped his grinding.
"Just do it," he hissed, pointing backward with his right hand toward
the bottle of lotion on the carpet. I stopped my assault on his
pucker, and considered the seemingly inconceivable. He bent
further, aligning his asshole with my cock, removing my doubts.
I reached over and opened the bottle of Jackie's lotion, and the
overpowering scent of flowers and perfume pushed aside the aroma of
John. I poured a generous portion into my hand and reached up,
smearing it along his crack and into his boy pussy. My finger slipped
in more easily than I would have expected, though with a little
resistance. I removed
my finger and doled out more lotion onto my palm and rubbed it along my
steel hard rod. I replaced the cap and tossed the lotion to the
floor. He started to sit back into my lap, and I grabbed him by
his hips, guiding my erection to its target. I felt my cock head
press against his back entrance and I paused, uncertain this could be
done without hurting this precious child. But he answered that
question for me by pressing down and, with only mild resistance, I felt
my head slip just into his hole.
"Uhhh..." I heard John moan, but he kept pressing slowly, easing
himself toward me, impaling himself onto my pole. It felt like a
vice, wrapped in velvet, was easing down my shaft, pulling the skin of
my cock tightly downward, and I knew I couldn't last much longer.
I finally hit bottom, and John leaned back into me, pushing me back
slightly. He was sitting in my lap again, but with my cock lodged
deep inside his ass; I couldn't fathom how
deep. I could see he was still as erect as
can be, his ball sac pulled tightly up against him beneath his
rod. I saw the muscles of his thighs flex as he lifted himself a
bit and lowered back onto my bursting cock. "Eeeh, oh..." he
chirped, but continued the onslaught on his anus. I wrapped my
hands on his ribs, clearly visible. He continued to ride my tool
and I was ready to shoot. I saw through half-closed eyes that his
pricklet was starting to fire again, and I saw him pulsing,
writhing. "Oh, oh, oh..." I could feel his sphincter
pulsing and gripping my cock.
That was all it took. I unloaded a barrage of cum into
his tunnel of love for what seemed like ten minutes, the cloying scent
of lavender and ass filling my nostrils...
To be continued...