He was bit of a scruff-bag really, in a hippyish sort of way (which is just the way I like my scruff-bags); dreadlocks down to his shoulders ( I could almost feel them brushing against my face), ring through one nostril (what would it feel like on my tongue), short scraggly beard (so nice against my balls), loose green singlet draped over his thin body (I could lose myself in those hairy armpits), baggy harem pants (don’t ask!).He smelt good too, all sweat, sandalwood, tobacco and the great outdoors, which is where he was now, prowling about under some trees I’d asked him to cut back; after all, what good is having a garden if you can’t decorate it every so often with an attractive gardener? He stood with his hands on his hips, letting the water cascade from his soft cock like a garden hose, puddling in the grass and dripping down the retaining wall like a fragrant water feature. Gay porn He knew that I was gay and probably also knew that I found him deeply attractive, but it didn’t seem to worry him and probably bolstered his confidence a bit; we’re all men after all.I’d give him coffee and something to eat on the small porch after he’d been at
