He was an Adonis, toned and tanned to perfection. His muscles were hypertrophied, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. His biceps stretched tightly against the fabric of his t-shirt, begging for a touch. He exuded an air of raw sexuality that made my heart race.
Browsing: #athletic
The lusty trials of San Francisco’s musclemen were not for the faint of heart. Bare chests glistening with sweat and desire, we explored each other’s innermost depths with reckless abandon, pushing our bodies to their passionate brink. Together, we dug deeper and deeper, exploring each other with voracious, pleasure-filled mouths. It was a tempestuous night we’ll never forget— of heat, desire, and lustful endeavor.
He was big, tall, and strong. The heat of his presence made me feel powerless, but I wanted it so bad. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me in, crushing my lips beneath his. His hands were everywhere, gripping and exploring. I moaned in pleasure, and let the sensations take me away.
My gaze fastened onto the tantalizing, taut skin of his muscles, straining against the fabric of his tight speedo. My eyes trailed hungrily down the inviting contours of his body, my arousal surging as I glimpsed the supreme highlight of this vision: the bulge of his package, begging for my touch.
His t-shirt was so tight that every contour of his body, every flex of his muscled chest, was on full display. Even more alluring were the bulges beneath his jeans, teasingly hinting at what lay beneath. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that this man would leave me breathless.