I eagerly get up on the bench, facing the wall. I wiggle my nude buttocks as he mounts me and puts his stiffy into my ass, balls deep, and then he fuc...s the SHIT out of me! He's a rough fuck. I mean, the whole booth is rocking, and I'm squealing like a stuck pig the whole time. He always cums inside of me, and lays on my back for a minute. Then he pulls out, I drop to my knees and suck him clean, and finish with a napkin. And all the while, his cock is still rock hard! I help him with his. I thought for a second that the person gave up and either went to sell their wares to Derrick, the alcoholic who lived there, or that I would now have to go to the post office to pick up a package. As I started to put on some boxers –I sleep in a large shirt, nothing else- the wrap wrap wrap returned, faster now, with a sense of urgency. ‘Hold on.’ I yelled groggily. ‘I’m coming,’ and under my breath ‘whoever the fuck you are, you ruined what would have been a great dream.’ I knew that when. Think you can keep up?" "Do you mean on the dance floor?" I asked coyly. I’d never danced with another man before, but I followed him out on to the dance floor. We danced for one song, and then without a word he took me by the hand and led me out of the bar and the two blocks to his week-long rental. Even though I knew it was coming I was still shocked when Bruce told me to undress him. I literally couldn’t breathe as I gripped the hem of his wife beater t-shirt and slowly pulled it up over. Why did you do that?”Mike chuckled to himself and began unbuckling his jeans. Luckily for him he was already shirtless or it would have soaked. Seeing him standing there shirtless made me understand why my wife had given into him. He was tall, had chocolate skin, a beard that almost didn't look real, shoulder length dreads, and to top it off being an actor meant he had to stay in top shape so he was as chiselled as Dwayne Johnson, before he did Fast & Furious.Now I'm not saying that I'm not.
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