I kept my legs spread, myself open as he walked in cause that's how he likes being invited back after a long day at work. I had spent the day cleaning myself, washing my hair, conditioning it till it falls soft in my fingers like they would when he grips them hard later on. I had oiled every inch myself with virgin coconut oil with a few drips of tea rose, fresh and feminine cause he likes to know that I am his soft little plaything that, the femme boy of his desires, the balance to his masculine presence that gets his dick hard. I am wearing nothing but a pair of pink lace shorts, a lingerie for 'men' box said. It should say 'lingerie for fags' cause that is how I feel right now. My cock is hard and pressing against the pink cloth, I know I am leaking precum. I need him inside me so much right but most of all I need to see his face looking down at me, his lust, his desire, his pride, the affirmation of his masculinity, power as he takes me, invites himself into me and fill me up.
The door creaks. I know he is here. He was off works and went to the gym, I know is both pumped and tired, but his hormones everywhere, feral. When he mounts me i know I am playing with a beast, untamed, erratic, thrusting into me only to chase what's his, a release. When he stands there now, looking down at me, i smile, I open my legs a little more open, I whine as I press my hard twink cock under the pink cloth. I hope he thinks me cute and pathetic and I can tell he does. He smiles at me before leans in a kiss on my chest and his fingers grasp my hip and he thrusts his covered dick against mine and I whimper. "Good boy," he says and I hear his belt and pants drop.
discoholicmusic
2087
tangentwithtanner
amandla
areudirty
pixelskylines
gamechangershow
