Angel Food Anouar
Bad ass angel demon; his faux wings made out of cabinetry, the knuckle popping lassitude of his features says: I got all day Daddio. Then there’s the vulnerable openness of his stance. He wants to be cock-sucked.
In my mind, I run my hands over those slim shoulders; test the meat with my fingers. Not so tough, boy-meat, sweet-meat, I think, thrusting my cock into his belly, feeling the heft of his cock, like a weighted ball, digging into my leg, at one end of me, while I taste the yielding flavor of his lips, open and pressed against my own, at the other end of me.
It’s time for those pants to go.
Slowly, I savor every inch from his heavy, sensuous lips, to his jutting-gorgeously sac, by allowing my lips to skid from one to the other.
The trip, from youthful chest to man-sized shaft ends as I encounter the base. I nibble at his mound, while forcing his pants down as far as I can. He steps lightly out of them.
Relishing the length, I lick the underside of his cock, popping the super-soft glans, when I get to it, into my mouth.
Hoover-time, I petal teeth with lips, and suck upwards, pumping lightly, while stroking his sac, stroking with fingers, as well as with the hollow tube of my mouth, vacuuming harder and harder, while my cheeks deepen and his young chest rises and falls quicker and quicker, till at last he spurts deep inside me.
Leave a comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.
