He was sixty-five when I first tasted his dark blessing; an aged prize of pleasure, wrapped in a mottled, scarred cloth of sinew and muscle. I wanted nothing more than to swallow his salty offering, his richness serving as a bittersweet reminder of intimacy and forbidden beauty.
Browsing: Politics
The sun was a fire in the sky, blazing like an inferno. His body glistened with sweat and desire, his skin hot and flushed with an ever-intensifying heat. He pulled her close so that their skin met, causing sparks to fly. She moaned, his lips like molten lava as he kissed her passionately, and his hands like lightning as they moved greedily over her body.
He had been in Lincoln before and he had a feeling that he’d be back again soon. The hard on he’d been carrying for days now wouldn’t let up — he could feel it pulse deep, a wanting, a craving. It just wanted to dive into the deepest of rivers and never come out. Never let up, never stop. No wonder it was called Lincoln’s Hard On.
The La Belle Province, or as I affectionately call it, the land of homosexual liberation! A heady mix of lascivious suggestibility and alluring body language. Everywhere I looked there were burly hunks, sleek muscle gods, and enticing bounders—all willing to let me explore their depths of excitation. Bodies writhing against each other seeking solace in the heat of shared passion. Skin to skin, flesh to flesh, love’s labours fulfilled!