I’d parallel parked across the street from the restaurant and took the street crossing slow, looking both ways. Gay sex It was exotic.After we’d rested a bit he straddled my pelvis, slid his channel down on my cock, which he’d worked up again in a lubricated hand job, and rode me in a cowboy, giving me a view of his slim back and clutching butt cheeks, split by my shaft, as he palmed my knees and rose and fell on me.Before either of us came, I took control back, rolling over and putting him under me, running my hands down his inner thighs to coax his legs open, which he accommodated with a low, guttural laugh and a string of what I took to be some coarse Chinese dialect.“Say it in English,” I murmured. Putting my hand in the case, I touched a pack of Coors and looked down the aisle. I guessed I’d come to a good takeout if Asians ordered here. Both cooks looked Chinese. I’d made quite clear I drove a red Mustang, having stashed the beer there and all before returning to the Chinese carryout. Our clothes were strewn between there and the sofa, where I’d first fucked him.“So, will you call me for takeout again sometime?” he asked,
