The taste of his honey-drenched seed on my lips was as salty and sweet and decadent as the air on a humid summer night. Filled with a fierce craving, I greedily lapped up every last drop, savoring the taste, the feel, the essence of his passion until there was nothing left but the warm stickiness of our love.
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He stood in the Oxblood shadows of Grayson’s Treasure, alone. The familiar musk of man combined with the slippery sweetness of mansex filled the air. His eyes, heavy like tropical fruit, never leaving the brash and carnal symmetry of the man across the room. There was a slobber of desire, a sensuous shove toward desire, which never ended. The salivation that propelled them toward an ardent and sensuous embrace.
The heat of his desire was palpable as we explored the delight of larger-than-life cumshots. Thick and sticky arousal pooled between us as I lost myself entirely in his ecstatic pleasure. His quivering body shuddered as the explosion of lusty bliss rocked us both to the core.