The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in any state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
Following, pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 10 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
^o^
Poul had gotten hardly any sleep, even though it was nearly 10:30 in the morning. He just lay there, thinking.
Normally, he would be stroking his thick trunk over something which occurred at Hawkins' Saturday Night get togethers. However, the gang not starting up until next week, coupled with his dreaded thoughts of having to be paired up with the notorious `Gio and Antonio', it just gave him the creeps.
To try passing the time, between 3 am and now, Poul tried to recall some of the Saturday nights from the past two semesters. Foremost in his mind, which related to his problem he had now, was the first time he made a mistake, regarding setting up some virtual players for Hawkins' clientele. Though he could not feel the pain physically, mentally it scarred him, watching Hawkins' work some young cub's ass with small to xxx-whatever size buttplugs. `Damn!' thoughts flooded his mind, when the last buttplug emerged from the stretched ass, leaving a gaping manhole, with Hawkins' warning, "Don't fail me again, Poul!"
Strangely, even though disturbed over the second warning given him, the brass knuckles working his abs over, thinking on this cub, a student from, not Manfredi, but the nearby university, in such pain, but the hairy cub's cock nearly ready to explode from having his chute opened up, was getting Poul hard now!
"Dammit!" he says to himself.
One minute, his thoughts had led him down the path of stroking himself up into a raging hardon, over simple thoughts of increments of butt plugs being forced into a tight ass and next thing, Poul loses his erection, thinking about next Saturday and the party; of Gio and Antonio and losing Cristano to... he says out loud, "That Jason! How could I ever have..."
Thinking about confiding in Jason, spilling his inner thoughts, Poul's mind begins to drift away from reality. Helps, he has something to stimulate his thoughts, hard cock, softening and then new life breathed back into it.
Stroking, Poul forgets about the brass knuckles and conjures up in his mind not a 2 on 1 between Gio and Antonio on Cristano, but himself and the 2 Italians going up against Jason!
Slowly though, the fantasy turns surreal, Gio and Antonio being overtaken by Jason, knocked out and then, like the wolf left in the ring with the lamb, facing his `arch enemy'.
Funny how it started out, Poul wanting to hurt Jason, hurt him bad, through Gio and Antonio's unwritten rules of wrestling, himself a spectator to the way the pair liked to have fun, punching, kicking, knee-drops to the balls, elbow to the gut, one or two hands grabbing up a meaty set of balls. It all started out well enough, but as Jason `knocks out' the Italian brothers, the whole fantasy has new meaning.
Forced to his knees, `big man Jason' dangles his larger-than-life cock in front of Poul's face. Not quick enough to open his mouth, Poul gets a kick in the balls, which makes him curl up in a ball on the floor, clutching his orbs with both hands.
Uncaring that he might have ruined Poul's chances of making babies, Jason' kneels down, plops his ass right down on Poul's chest, corralling his arms in with his knees. Having his hands slapped away, Jason' slaps his hands away from his injured balls and replaces them with this warning, `If I feel teeth, I'll rip these right off!'
All it took was a few ins and outs, `Jason' impaling Poul's throat with his cock, when realistically, it was Poul's own hand replicating the scene, sucking a big cock and exploding, it was Poul's own cream soaking up his pubes and not Jason's flooding his vocal cords.
Waking up to reality, totally spent, this wasn't about Jason, but about Hawkins and how, no fault but his own, he was subjected to the headmaster's every whim. He now knew what he wanted, to give up, get out, walk away, cut his losses... one thing he knew, he wasn't going to go out alone.
Rubbing his own cum into his pubes and because the focal point of cumming at all had been about Jason', it was really a lot of cum', which became the reason why Poul used both hands to mix the lux creme over his whole front, wetting down his strawberry blond bod-fur.
Saying it in a way which evoked pleasure, even though the pleasuring had gone out of him with orgasm, shooting his big load, going airborne, then all over himself, Poul still reveled in the moment, as if being thankful to `Jason', "Oh man, would have been awesome if you fucked me, Jason!"
Then, remembering it his own fault', Poul's mind drifts on a journey, dating back to when he first came to Manfredi, a young guy with a chip on his shoulder. At 18 years old, falling into the realm of things beyond the education process, feeling hurt, angry, he realizes how he was duped by Hawkins into becoming a headhunter for his Saturday Night get togethers, though not the only one. For Poul, all that mattered was numero uno'. Now, of numero uno', he was thinking, numero stoopido'!
Skipping over the nitty gritty details, he reminisces over certain scenarios which occurred over the past two years. He smiles, thinking how dumb Cristano, Jason's `Xeno', took on his first of Hawkins' parties.
Still waxing his bod with his wet hand, Poul smiled, thinking how happy many of the clients were, the big Greek bear, with the big 9c'! Either participating or being a witness to how many times Cristano could pump a load up a guy's ass or down his throat, he was the life of the party!'
However, too much of a good thing can get tiring and it was with the inauguration of the fall semester, Hawkins decided to change up the programming, teaming Cristano up with Gio and Antonio.
Whereas he used memories of Cristano, drilling asses hard or getting sucked up to, it didn't kindle the fire for another hot jerk off. Poul wasn't getting any harder, no matter how much of the man-lube he rubbed into his cock. Instead of more brilliance, he fell asleep, thinking out loud about Jason, "Too bad it couldn't have been you and me..."
^ o ^
At his home, Samuele Hawkins-Jones was just waking up, except he wasn't alone!
From Saturday night, into the early hours of Sunday morning, Samuele had partied in his bed, with an acquaintance he had run into at the gay bar, David.
In his junior year at the university, David had represented Samuele on campus, headhunter for his Saturday Night parties. A knack for knowing the perfect guy who would fit in, David had made quite a bundle of money for himself, supplying Samuele with built, hot gay guys, interesting these guys with a lure of money, charm and when it led to it, a night of hot sex.
Unlike the Manfredi population of boys, the university crowd would often not have the means of support, money-wise. Here is where David stepped in, grooming a database of a cross of men.
David had his own way of keeping track. First and foremost were bod types. Generally there were three: muscled, average, and cubs. At first, Hawkins had wanted only muscular guys, but it was David who suggested, broaden the base and you'll double your clients.' Plus, it was David who convinced Samuele there were frat almost willing to work for pennies, wanting' abuse.
Opening Samuele's eyes, David helped build the `underground business', which in turn put more money into both of their pockets.
Earlier on Saturday evening, David had brought up the fall database, going over returning students, those who had graduated the university, but liked the money they had made, figuring why quit if the money's there, plus it was a helluva sexual turn on!
With Sunday morning hours, their sexual escapade from last night, the two lay groggy in bed.
"How did you like the lineup I'm bringing in this fall?"
"Oh-h," Samuele exclaims, almost feeling a jolt in his jock, "amazing group of men! I would `love' to pair up with the ginger fellow sometime!"
"Consider it done, Sam!" David replies, stepping into his jeans, skipping the briefs. "His name's Ken Fitzgerald. Yeah, hot man. Can really take it too!"
Samuele was ready to show what he wanted to use on Ken, but after fucking David two times and shooting a third load down the college junior's throat, plus David turning on him to pocket a couple of loads, there wasn't sexual fervor left to back up his feelings.
Knowing of Poul's falling out with Samuele, he brings it up, "I was thinking about your dilemma with Poul losing Cristano and I think it's a good time to sever ties."
"Easier said than done," Samuele replies, still lying there in bed, hands behind his head, relaxing.
"Not necessarily. You still have that phone video of Poul threatening Cristano, don't you?"
"Sure. I save stuff like that. Downloaded it. Just in case," Samuele means, of circumstances as this, whereas someone leaves on bad vibes between the two.
"Then, what's the problem?" David casually says, putting his tee shirt on, "All you have to do is rough up Cristano, have him worked over real good and then make up a little story over how Poul hated Cristano, show the video to the cops and I don't think Poul will be attending Manfredi much longer," the headhunter laughs!
It made Samuele smile, though he didn't think things were as clear cut, "I'll think on it."
On the side, David worked for another `boss', much into Samuele's type of entertainment, only on a larger scale. With foresight, David and his keen sense of business matters, he had an eye on Samuele's whole operation.
In particular, David had a vision' for Kevin Fitzgerald. Once a year Saturday night's activity was thrown a curve, whereas the best of the best bottoms were auctioned off for charity', which in essence was streamed into Samuele's retirement fund.
As the aspects of David's job on the side' dictated, the college senior was always on the lookout for fresh meat'. Each headhunter had their own conception of what these terms meant and could be translated to. Always on the lookout, he scouted mostly about the sports complex. Here, he found the most contenders for Saturday night, the fittest of the fit, plus sometimes extras, which made them ideal in his eyes.
Such was Kevin Fitzgerald, a college junior, on the wrestling mat. An avid wrestler, Kevin would often hold one on one matches, even if a coach wasn't available, bending the rules, both about using university facilities without a referee, or in general, the way the game' was played'.
It was a tossup for David at first, seeing Kevin take the lead, pinning his opponent, the two all wrapped up in legs and arms, then Kevin's fist unwinding from the mass of flesh and bones, rising high in the air, dive-bombing, targeting his opponent's abs!
"Nice one," David revealed himself that first time, stepping inside the door, where he had kept concealed until the proper moment.
Nervously, Kevin, who stood at over 6 feet tall, a giant, both in height and width gruffly says, "That door is supposed to be closed at all times!"
Cool, calm and collective, David walks over to him. Feeling dwarfed by his own 5'10 height, he doesn't back down from the monster', "According to university rules or your own set, Kevin'?"
Putting a finger out, ready to impress a point, Kevin responds, "Let me guess. You know me from one of Jeff's Knockdown parties?"
Precisely where David first saw Kevin in action, he smiles, cunningly saying, "I love how you put that football player out of his misery. You must `love' your work?"
Kevin replies to that, "I'm not out for blood. It's the sport which interests me."
"Sport?" David replies, eyes shooting down to the mat at Kevin's current victim, still curled up in a ball and trying to regain a steady pulse, "Oh, you mean like you're friend here?"
"My sparring partner," Kevin goes over to his friend, "Hey, Ned, you're okay, right? Here... give me your hand."
"Fine," Ned says, allowing Kevin to haul him up to his feet.
"Hmm," David assesses, "you looked worse on the mat?"
In David's mind, he had his sights set on Kevin, but seeing how this Ned, had apparently been taking it easy on the mat, maybe he would make a killing; two new participants. Wouldn't Samuele be proud of him for that, not to mention the extra `paycheck'!
"I'm fine, really," Ned quips.
Even Kevin says, "He's fine. He loves gut-punching. Lives for it. Tell him, Ned!"
"Oh really?" David utters in false pretense.
"Yeah, it's cool. I love it," Ned replies. "I like how Kevin gets rough on me."
It seems, David not only the wise one here, seeing maybe Ned could be a little vague than Kevin.
True to his thinking, Kevin was only into the `sport' for the thrill of the fight. On the opposite end of the scale, weighing his options, Ned was already seeing dollar signs, David the key to unlocking the bank!
Far as David was concerned, he had two contenders, each with their own intentions, which was fine with him, as long as they understood the rules, with money winding up in his pocket. Right now though, he was looking at Ned as more than a money-making symbol.
That day he first confronted Kevin, David left the 6'5 wrestler with a lot to think about, Saturday nights given up for the thrill of some hot wrestling action.
As for Ned, there was more than a tough 6-pack involved, David inviting the college wrestler out for some supper, which would wind up back at his house. David could afford it, having a nice night, mixing sex with other things which interested himself. It wasn't totally necessary the other guy enjoy the kinky things David liked doing, though it didn't seem like he would have a problem with Ned.
Throwing a small deviation into his plans, it's Ned who interjects thought, "I'm not really hungry for a salad right now," he works his bod up against David, "so how about we skip the supper and head on over to your place for a little action?"
The sudden change of plans didn't phase David much. What did, was Ned's wink, which signaled what could be a hot evening, followed by late night eats, he reacts, "Sounds like a plan!"
As David drove home, his home, whereas he only took a guy for specific reasons, which detailed means by which he would capture interest in his way of making extra spending money for college. Not which he wasn't set for tuition for 4 years and beyond, it always paid to have some extra loot in the bank. Right now he couldn't afford the kind of real estate his employer, Zeb Matson could, but a small saltbox house was far better than a college dorm.
Little at a time he converted the dilapidated home to specifications of his own code of how he lived his life. He's always had more than a gay interest in sucking and fucking, working some of these special interests into some of the interior design.
The week before construction was to begin, David was in the building which housed Trevor Construction, happening upon 2 builders, helping to remodel one section of the waiting room.
Soon as he walked in the revolving door, his eyes met face to face with Rick Trotsky. Even though he walk towards the reception desk, David's gaze stay affixed to the construction man.
Instead of one of Trevor's alternate construction representatives, David did business with the man himself, which after finalizing the plans for the interiors of his saltbox', David requests the ginger-haired' worker.
Trevor mentions, "Rick and Anthony work as a team," since this is how he did business. It was easier when two or three were in sync with how a plan to remodel inside or outside a building.
"I assume it will take more than one worker to complete the remodel?" David inquires.
Reason David had hired Trevor Construction to do the remodel, the business had come with full recommendation from his employer, Zeb Matson. Trevor had contacted Matson after his first meeting David. David knew this, because Zeb had mentioned it in conversation, though he didn't tell Trevor he knew he had contacted Zeb. Adding to all this, Zeb had given David the heads up to fully accommodate him on his remodeling project. It helped to know somebody as powerful in the business world as Zeb Matson, a lucrative businessman, into real estate, not to mention the shared `hobby' the two had.
So, about the construction workers in the lobby, Trevor had given carte blanche, "I'm sure I can find two other workers to take their place, finishing up the lobby."
Of course, the two workers were fully uniformed with the company shirts and pants, regardless, he could only vision how Rick Trotsky defined form looked without the shirt. Regarding the pants, a definite bulge made him imagine what fun could be in store!
The other, the Italian, whom Trevor names as, `Anthony Bellisimo', "Rick and Anthony work together very well. Too well sometimes, if you catch my drift?" he winked.
David let that sly comment go right over his head, but didn't let it slip his mind, how much he loved watching two men get it on, `live' and not necessarily from slipping a DVD in the machine!
Something which David had slipped up on, was finding out more about Trevor Construction, other than Zeb's recommendation and lusting over some construction workers in the lobby that day. If he had bothered to find out, more than a name, Trevor Construction', Trevor's surname being Norwood'!
It was quite by accident, Ned having supper with his brother, Trevor, the mutual name came up, `David Blank'.
Trevor had mused, "Yeah, he uses Blank' for unscrupulous purposes, but his real surname is Blankenship'!"
Before placing a piece of barbecued steak in his mouth, Ned asks his bro, "For what purpose would that be?"
"His old man... Not sure the exact nature of his business, but holds government contracts. As I understand it, if his old man ever got wind of what David does on the side for extra cash... Well, it would not be David's interests to have information spread by word of mouth!"
Because David had asked his brother how he came by this information, he learned plenty of David Blank's aka Blankenship's side business.
Driven by his own interests, gay, sexual, kinky, it all added up to all the right reasons to enroll at the university. Way he figured it, David's desires were driving him into a more diverse part of gay sex and since he had his own strong convictions, why not meet up with him and see how things pan out. It seemed to for Rich Trotsky at first, slowly drawing Tony Bellismo into the world of bdsm and other fun stuff.
It should also be noted, Ned's brother had mentioned some interesting facts into the reconstruction of David's home, of which he casually shared the floor plan and other details.
Remembering the sketch out on his brother's desk, it came to mind, David opening the front door and allowing him to enter.
From both the floor plan and things Rich had passed on down to his brother, about the kinky stuff that went on, because Ned wasn't the only gay brother in the family, he learned if, after ascending the staircase, a guy was led off to the left, the evenings activity would be filled with a strictly sexual encounter.
This was not the case with Rick Trotsky, mostly from his own inclinations to love not only gay sex, but things much more bizarre.
He was sure Trevor had not elaborated on everything told by Rick, but of those small details, Ned had gathered some of those bizarre tales only served to stimulate him. Often, at night, with his hand around his cock, he would picture David, whom he hadn't met at the time, ruling over Rick Trotsky, having met the 32 year old construction worker on numerous occasions.
From all this, he had drawn up his own plan, meeting for the first time David Blank, caving in, pretending he was a total bottom for sex and in the long run, loving to be dominated and having his bod played with.
Right now, his thoughts were coming together and those moments of deep-throating David were to be the cause of him thinking it was time to turn the tables.
His cock started to fluctuate, on the verge of the excitement, when after ascending the staircase, Ned hoped the trail would end where they would take a right turn. If they turned left, still he would have felt `something', but the fact David led him to the right, it really started making his cock pulse!
"And here we are!"
As per Rick Trotsky's description, not always from speaking with his to brother, but from Rick's lips himself, when he was sucking on Ned's tool, the inside of the extra bedroom' was almost exactly as he pictured it; dark-paneled walls gave way to a very big armoire on the side wall, bed which could be between a king and queen, it was custom-made, which included the canopy, 4 posts intersected with beams. Off to the side was a chest of draws and as Rick had described it, a table, which when easily converted, could hold a man's bod for certain' pleasuring!
Just as Rick had recalled to him, as Ned stood there at the foot of the bed and like he was throwing hint, reaches up and grabs each stanchion of the top frame, was the wall hanging above the bed, which to his knowledge, could very easily be lifted off its hook. Rick had told him how, after the cuffs were affixed to his wrists, David easily swung the framed picture to one side and extracted a chain. Connecting it to two wrist cuffs, Rick said he was rendered faced down, arms to the wall, totally incapacitated and at the mercy of his captor.
"Ready for a little fun?" David starts off the entertainment, removing his hoodie, tossing it onto a hook of floor-standing clothes rack.
"Oh yeah," Ned, with his own interpretation of how things are going to go, "am I ever!"
In the throes, foreplay of anticipation, the two go at it, stripping off shirts, shucking shoes, socks and unzipping flies.
Because Rick's encounter with David had evolved out of different circumstances, Rick's desire to be held captive by David, things started off a little different, other than like Rick, David flinging him on the bed, forcing arms overhead and slapping cuffs on his wrist.
"What's first?" Ned asks, knowing they are here for something more than a little gay sex.
"These," David opens one side of the double-doored armoire, which flaunts a bunch of toys and equipment, of which he unhooks a set of leather cuffs.
He had only heard, through Rick's description, the array of sexual toys, plus other toys which were not of a sexual nature, but could sure make a man hard and keep him stiff, Ned asks, "Curious. What's on the other door?"
"I didn't want to scare you away," even though Ned had clued David in to some of his interests, opens the other door.
Laughing, Ned asks, "You got enough of a selection of floggers?"
"All kinds and `all sizes'," David picks up the smallest one, which is no secret to Ned, used on either an erect shaft or a set of balls.
Toying with David, he asks, "Which one do you like used on you?!"
In a sly manner, David, thrashing the quirt on two of his fingers, reminds, "Maybe you didn't get the idea, but I'm here to enhance your sexual experience?"
Ned knew about how this was doing to go down. David was no comparison, in physical strength, nor build to gain any kind of upper hand, unless drugged. However, from talking with Rick, while stimulating his ass, Ned learned David doesn't mess with drugs. Like he was playing up to David, the drugs are the interactions between 2 men wanting something, the throbbing, the inhibition placed between the two to go beyond the normalcy of what would be termed an ordinary sexual relationship. Up until now he's played the part of the underdog, the bottom', the person with longing to be subdued, sweetly tortured and sexually used'. His plan thus far, to catch David off guard was working. As Rick would have done, Ned exclaims, "Oh man, that would feel so hot on my balls right now!" Ned's hand is feeling up his own 2 big globes.
"Hot!" David's eyes shone like diamonds.
With defenses down, David holding 2 leather cuffs in one hand, the quirt in the other, gave Ned open access to the 20 year old's mid-section. Like he was thinking, unmatched by size of shoulders, girth and a few inches of height, Ned's wrestling fist provides the perfect impact for subjugation.
David had no inkling, no idea whatsoever of what was about to commence, throwing both cuffs and quirt to the floor as he doubled up, fell to his knees and rolled up in a ball. Heaving air and spit, it could be sensed he was in total surprise.
"I didn't think it would be this easy!" Ned exclaims, giggling as he picks up the cuffs, unfastens the connecting hook.
He had really sunk his fist in deep to David's stomach, still keeping him doubled up and breathing hard.
Knowing his sore abs would not feel that way forever, he walks behind David, slams a foot against his back, which provides new horror, sending his chest to the floor.
It's then it registers with David, "What tha fuck?"
Too late, Ned's big foot is on David's back and the wrestler's weight keeping him pinned to the wooden floor. Leaning forward, he grabs up one of David's arms, pulling it behind his back, while fastening a leather cuff around it. He laughs, saying, "Hey! Rick was right! These cuffs are adjustable for anyone's wrists!"
"Rick?" David calls out in horror. It's always been on his mind, but remote, one of the guys he's playing with will suddenly turn traitor.
Quelling David's fears, as Ned reaches for the other hand, "But don't worry. I know how to work Rick as good as you can. He ain't going to no law enforcement... or how else would he be able to get off?!"
David didn't like the laugh, nor the knee on his back, which kept his bod from moving in any direction. Nor did he enjoy Ned pulling his bod up off the floor with both wrists cuffed, using the force of gravity to pull him into his knee!
"Oh, how I love the sound of a knee ramming into a man's gut... not as much as the balls, but we'll get to that later!"
After a gut punch and a knee to his abs, it was about all David could take, even though going to the gym. Really, excursions like that or to the beach was only to scout out new `meat' for Zeb's operation, Saturday night get togethers with friends! If he had paid more attention to building up his bod, he might have been able to fend off Ned's attack!
Likewise, finding two more cuffs, Ned fastened them around David's ankles and easily finding the embedded hooks in the columns at the foot of the bed, spread his legs wide.
"How easy could the be?" Ned says of the picture flinging open on a hinge. "What will they think of next?" he whimsically asks, reached for David's wrists, coupled with leather cuffs.
It was easy stuff, Ned pulling David's bod until it was taut, his cuffed wrists linked up with the chain protruding from the wall above the bed.
Ned just laughed as he jumps off the side of the bed, eyeing up David, protesting his bondage position, the slant of his bod, from feet touching the mattress at the foot of the bed, to a perfect stretch of the rest of his bod, clenched fists facing the wall.
Walking to the armoire, Ned talks as he picks out 2 sizes of buttplugs, drapes a long flogger over his neck, temporarily holds a ball-stretcher between his thighs, "I guess I should explain to you I'll been in touch with Zeb Matson. He was interested in hiring me, except he already had plenty of contacts in the field. Only way to get my foot in the door, Zeb explained, is if it should come about that one of his scouts relinquished their position."
Even though he protested, offered money, Ned didn't give in. He had money. His main interest had been synonymous with why David liked his work with Zeb Matson, almost like fringe benefits.
"But first things first," Ned drops everything in a heap at the foot of the bed.
David couldn't see what he was doing, no matter how he tried moving his head. Though, he could imagine, hearing Ned `spit'.
"Wow!" Ned says, while lubing up his cock, "Looks like this could be a tight ride!"
More threats, like he was going to kill Ned, flowed out of David's lips.
"Nah," Ned shrugs the words off with laughter, "there's enough killing in the world." Then he decides, "Oh wait. Here's something to take your mind off me fucking your ass!"
Words were meant to taunt and that indeed they did, David, turning from the tough manner in which he threw his character around, the 20 year old wimping, out, pleading. He especially because fearful when Ned started probing underneath his bod, reaching under his right armpit, feeling his chest up and finding one of his nips.
"Sorry ole boy," Ned wasn't sorry, "but this is going to be a real zinger!" he laughs.
Still, Ned was laughing his ass off after applying a croc clip to David's nip, the other end of the chained device clamped to his other nip!
"Now to take your mind off your nips!"
He wasn't gentle. He didn't mean to be. It wasn't in Ned's plan to present himself as a gentle, calm person. Instead, Ned acted without mercy, directing his cock right to David's pea-hole and without wondering how his fat shaft was going to react with David, shoved himself inside.
He laughs and cries out with such a joy of feeling his caged in cock, "Nips feel better?" he rides David's ass!
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Copyright 2012 T. Chase McPhee
`A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.