His tight tank hugged his sculpted biceps like a second skin, the fabric stretching to contain the growing bulge of his muscular chest. His face was a portrait of pure lust as his muscles quivered with raw desire, begging to be touched. He was the epitome of pure masculinity.
Browsing: #Muscles
My muscles ached as pearly strings of pre-come glistened against my soft tan skin. I opened myself up to each of the 25 loads of twinkly jocks, feel the warmth of their creamy loads take me over again and again. Letting out a guttural scream, I savored every last drop as I felt my desires being satisfied in full.
The muscular man eased my body against his own, his hands exploring my skin in a scorching caress of heat. His feverish touches unleashed an insatiable fire between us, an unyielding desire that unleashed fiercely carnal passions. As his thrusts grew more powerful and vehement, an inferno of sweat and ecstasy engulfed us, leaving me quivering from its intensity.
His fingers moved in sure, tantalising circles across his soft, yearning thighs. With each pass, a pulse of raw pleasure surged throughout his entire body, the warm sensations of arousal fusing together in a single, delicious wave. He felt his need bulging between his legs, its heat driving him towards a shuddering release as his throbbing thighs pressed against the sheets.
His firm, jutting body drove me wild with desire. I could feel the heat of his raw masculinity, fired up with a bristling hunger that only made me hungrier. I wanted to devour every last inch of his hungry, throbbing muscle meat.
The magnetic allure of Montreal muscles, allured me in. I followed suit, and my every kiss, hungry nibble and lick, explored the inviting landscape of hypnotising muscles and searing flesh. The taste of succulent perfection deliciously dancing on my tongue, left me wanting nothing more than more.
His hairless chest glimmered in the light. His defined body contoured as he shifted. Muscles flexed, inviting me to touch them. His deep gaze, calling for something deeper than just a physical encounter. He was raw and untamed, much like his selfie. One thing was certain – he was all mine.
He gripped her tight, the bulging muscles on his arms glistening with sweat as he encouraged her body against his. His erratic breathing told her he wanted more and as his hands caressed her curves they left trails of heat and pleasure. He knew exactly what she desired and pushed her further, their mutual arousal intensifying until the room was filled with shivers of delight.
He was a sweaty, salivating, raw specimen of masculinity. His rippling muscles gleaming as every finely toned muscle seemed to be begging for attention. His hard body a source of pure pleasure as I ran my fingertips across his glistening flesh, feeling every bulge and swell of his body with my trembling fingertips.
Sweat beads run down his chest as he thrusts his body towards me, my skin touching his, muscles throbbing, hearts pounding in unison. His jock selfies were such a tease, now here I am, melting into the reality of his heat, peeling off boundaries between us with my hands, exploring his body in its purest, most natural form.