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me a nice massage.
He answered the door in his robe.
 The room where I take my massages is through there. Through the kitchen. But
first. Take everything off. Take it off right here. I stripped, wondering if he d gone off his
nut or something.
 Here. Follow me to the kitchen. We d gotten half way through the kitchen, when
he turned on me and said.  Up on the counter; hop up on that counter.
Well, Hokay. Up I perched on the kitchen counter, between the sink and the
stove. The counter was some sort of granite; cold on the butt cheeks. He slipped his
robe off and was naked. He already had a half hardon. I watched him cross to the
refrigerator and return with a tub of butter. To my surprise, He dipped his hand in the
butter, came up with a big glob and started smearing in all over my chest and belly.
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Hey, I thought and think I said it as well but he pushed me back on the
counter and his lips went to my chest, while his hand kept coming up with gobs of butter
which he smeared onto my cock and balls and then into my asshole as his lips followed,
down my body, playing cleanup. But his lips didn t follow into my asshole. He slid his
cock in there, without removing the butter and gave me a butter fuck. It was all a little
kicky and more fun than what some others were doing to me.
He pointed to a bathroom with a shower between the kitchen and his workout
room. When I emerged, all clean again, he was laying face up on his massage table. I
gave him a massage, both front and back and he toyed with my cock whenever he
could get to it. So, as fringe benefit, when I was done with his back, I whipped out that
old tub of butter and started buttering up his ass.
 Hey, wait, he said,  that isn t part of my plan.
 No, but it s part of mine, I said, as I got up over him on the table, I was down on
my right knee beside his thigh on one side, and up on my left foot on the other to
maintain leverage and aid thrust. I ran my arm under his belly and lifted him up to me
and entered him. He was disagreeable at first, but after the first five minutes, he was
panting and groaning, and sighing, and moaning, and asking for more. And I gave him
more. I gave him a whole lot more. I gave him more than seven inches. It seemed the
only logical thing to do. He d been the one who started this whole story.
I felt so good about having fought back at my circumstances that evening that I
let Lance, of my own free will, go to sleep with his long cock up my ass and my ass
folded into his pelvis. And I think a was as content with and comforted by this as he
was.
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Chapter 15
I still felt better about the possibilities of taking control the next evening, which
may be why I took that ticket the doped up rocker had given me and attended his
concert. His band really was quite good. He had a large crowd in the university s soccer
stadium, and it was even filmed for national sale as a video. The rocker who had fucked
me had a great, raspy, character-laden voice and he played a mean guitar. I was also
impressed with his backup singer, a statuesque brunette in a halter top and flowing
crinkly skirt. She played a hand harp as well as song. The drummer was an evening s
entertainment himself. Stripped to the waist, and sweating from the exertion, he was a
massive Jamaican, with flowing dreadlocks that flew all around him as he made love to
his drums. The spots were on him more than on anyone else that evening.
Caught up in the euphoria of the concert, I decided to see what my special red-
banded ticket would get me. I really wanted to see that brunette up close. My wish on
that was granted, because when I was ushered back to the rocker s dressing room, she
and he were in a lip lock and fondle exercise over on one of a pair of couches that faced
each other in an alcove. The room was thick with the smoke from various drugs, and a
small crowd was freely handing around a foaming drink in big plastic cups. The rocker
saw me and waved me over. I sat across from him and the striking brunette. They
offered me a joint, but I turned it down just as I had the other day. I did take a drink and
down it, though, which likely was a mistake.
I think I had been slipped a Mickey of some sort, because it wasn t long before I
got groggy and my connection with all that was going on around me kept going in and
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out. I started to disappear, while the brunette appeared wrapped up in whatever
conversation I could muster to avoid telling her I was here because her colleague had
had me for a snack a few days earlier. She must have fancied me herself, because after
my first blackout, I found her on my sofa, sticking her tongue in my ear and playing with
my chest and belly. My shirt had disappeared somewhere. I didn t stay aware long, and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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