He lay down on the bed, waiting for the handyman. His anticipation built with every passing second. When he arrived, the handyman entered the room lucious and ripe. He lay down beside the man and started to kiss him deeply. His hands explored every corner, growing wilder by the moment until their tongues meshed and their bodies clashed heavily and raw. Nothing more needed to be said – the only language they knew was pleasure.
Browsing: #woodworking
Rain was coming down harder and faster when he climbed out of the beat-up old Chevy. William’s log was waiting for him. He chopped off a hefty chunk, threw it in the trunk, and drove back to town, his coins clinking as he went. That night, he’d have pleasure in that thick piece of wood, its hardness now part of him, of his fantasies.
He woke up with a throbbing ache between his thighs, a stirring that was so strong and so alluring, he felt himself drawn into it. His hands traveled slowly to the source of the pleasure, massaging and tenderly caressing until he was overwhelmed by waves of intense desire and pleasure. Grasping firmly, he let out a moan of pleasure as he released all his inhibitions. It felt so good, so comforting, he couldn’t bear to stop. He embraced the bliss of the moment, and truly began to love ‘the morning wood’.