Mr. “It just feels so damn good,” he said, a faint smile curling his lips. Gay sex Chest, smirked, clearly enjoying the attention. Chest, ever the instigator, leaned in closer, capturing Mr. “It just feels so damn good,” he said, a faint smile curling his lips. He entered, his silhouette framed by the faint glow from the hall, his glasses glinting briefly. He exploded deep inside me, his thrusts wild and unrestrained, his body writhing in total abandon and rapture. Peepers even further, encouraging me to take him deeper still. Peepers was completely lost in the moment now, his hips rocking instinctively. Peepers’ impressive cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately. Mr. Earlier, in the dim, cedar-scented dry sauna, he’d been sitting on a wooden bench, rubbing petroleum jelly on his enormous cock head. Peepers from 1950s TV, all understated charm with a hidden spark.The bathhouse was alive with muted moans and the rhythmic slap of skin in nearby rooms, the air heavy with musk and anticipation. His hands roamed freely, caressing the lean planes of Mr. He felt it—the eager, rhythmic massage of my deep throat—and it pushed him over the edge. He was getting harder, the veins along his shaft standing out as his arousal deepened.
