He entered me without hesitation, thrusting deep and slow, my nails clawing into his sweat-drenched back as our lips crashed together. His powerful, passionate movements sent me over the edge into a powerful, intense haze of pleasure. Every thrust became more intense, more unforgettable, until we both fell into rapturous pleasure and exhaustion.
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The salty Provincetown air was like an aphrodisiac, leading me to the arms of hung trialblazers. My heart hammered as I walked into the sea of faces seeking love and interplay. My gaze fell upon the man with the broad shoulders and tight firmness I craved, and my mouth ran dry when he smiled. I was ready to pleasure myself and be the object of his desire – just another night of Provincetown’s hung.
He looked up at me from beneath heavy lashes, his eyes were like dark pools of pure desire. The selfie he’d sent of his huge, hard cock was an invitation, a promise of pleasure. I could feel my heart pounding in anticipation as he grabbed my hand, and I knew that tonight, anything could happen.