My mouth was pulled open and filled with his wet cock. It tasted like cherries from the lube he was using; he was pumping in and out of my mouth, dire...ting me to suck, holding my head with both hands. He pulled the tape loose from my wrists and placed my hands around his slippery cock again. I was trying to keep my balance, my legs still taped so close together. I stroked the base of his big cock with my hands as I sucked the top half as hard as I could. He liked it. Soon his hands were holding. It wasn't long before we were entering a new-looking block of low-rise apartment, with front gardens. She took out her keys and we entered a large airy ground floor flat with three bedrooms and a medium-sized patio area.I was following Brigid in to her living room, when she stopped dead in her tracks. There stretched out, with his bare feet on the coffee table was a young man, whom I took to be Liam Brigid looked surprised and sounded annoyed, "What are you doing here Liam, I thought you were. “What?” demanded Tammy.“Ever play strip poker?” asked her fiancée.All the women laughed uproariously at the suggestion, but Tricia asked, “So how do you play it.”“Real simple. Instead of money, you bet your clothing. Losers have to take off something. It’s easy,” said Rick. He gave an evil grin to the other guys.“Can’t play poker without gambling,” agreed Frank.The women tried to weasel out of this but were egged on by the men. Finally, they agreed to give it a shot. Unfortunately for them, not. I had always written songs, but knew that my lyrics were better than my music. When I met Greg, he started putting my words to his own music. It wasn't until then that my lyrics started to truly sing. He's one of the most staggeringly gifted composers you'll ever meet. I know my words are good--I know that a lot of people identify with and can relate to what I'm trying to say--but they wouldn't be half as good without his music. Plus, he's a terrific singer.We started rolling, back there a year.
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