Gay muscle man gallery

Doorway He ran his fingers down the side of my night-dress until they tipped over the hem onto my thighs. I could feel his cock pressing against my back, trapped behind the fabric of his jeans, for now. I told him straight. ‘No way you’ll make me move.’ ‘Really?’ He said as his callused finger tips scratched the night-dress back up over my thighs. I was spread-eagled, hands against the doorframe for support and there was nothing I could do to stop him. There was nothing I could do if he wanted to brush me aside and get into the bedroom either. Nothing that was except encourage his hardon that was rubbing so enthusiastically against me. Allowing Dave to fuck me out here in the hall in such an undignified way, compared to him finding out what was in the bedroom, was definitely gay muscle man gallery the lesser of two evils. Dave has a mind that never overcomplicates things, one of the reasons I love him (not just for his money as I’ve heard people snide). But that does mean that gay muscle man gallery he tends to take things at face value. The red bills, for example, that I’d stupidly laid out on the bed. If he saw those threats of court gay muscle man gallery action he’d be awake all night waiting for thugs to be hammering on the door for payment. And the fact that I’d neglected to tell him about them, he’d take as betrayal. That was the worse sin of all to Dave. He’d never trust me with our money again. Dave began to massage my buttocks, and when I still didn’t move, he muttered something to himself and knelt down. Next thing, his breath swept across my pussy. ‘Please don’t.’ I muttered as half-heartedly as I could.

‘Just stop me whenever you want baby.’ His tongue brushed my clit, sending shivers of anticipation between my legs. I couldn’t help it, despite my degrading position, that one delicate touch made me push my pussy back towards him, wanting more than just a tickle, but he drew back , knowing full well what he was doing to gay muscle man gallery me. I pushed back further and again he drew gay muscle man gallery away, keeping up the light brushes, with his tongue just millimetres gay muscle man gallery from my clit. Bracing myself against the doorframe I gave one big push back towards his face, pushing until he could retreat no further, by which time I was almost horizontal. Exactly where he wanted me. I pushed my pussy hard into his face. ‘If you’re going to lick me, lick me. Don’t fuck about.’ To my relief, his tongue slid into me, parting my labia and sliding along my clit. He began to work his magic. Usually a couple of licks and Dave’s looking for his reward, but this time he stuck at it, curving his tongue around the sensitive anatomy of my pussy, then sliding it up gay muscle man gallery to delve around my arsehole. No one had ever done anything like that to me before, not gay muscle man gallery even Dave. He rolled his tongue into a point and pressed it past my sphincter, making me jump. ‘Dave, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ He pulled out. ‘Darling, with you balanced against that door like that, I’m doing whatever the hell I please. What do you think?’ I groaned as he pushed back into me again. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. God, I was almost glad that he’d come back and surprised me. His slick tongue slipping around my sphincter was making my pussy drip, more it was making the nerves in my clit tremble with the promise of an orgasm. Dave was supposed to have been on his way to London, giving me a chance to sort my mess of red bills out without him finding out. Any normal man with a normal gay muscle man gallery job would give me the courtesy of staying out of the house for a predictable eight hour day. But not, Dave, his wheelings and dealings with his numerous dodgy mates, took him in and out of the house at all hours and with very little notice. The money he earned barely made up for the inconvenience.