A college freshman gets more than he bargained for when he agrees to be a guinea pig for an untested phimosis treatment.
I met him on a men’s health forum of all places. I had found myself in a thread where guys whine about their phimosis and try to give each other tips on fixing the problem. You see, I’ve never been able to pull back my foreskin, which, let me tell you, kind of puts a damper on your sex life. I mean I’d been with guys before, well, ok, one guy. But it took a lot of convincing before I was ever comfortable being naked in front of Bryan. Without that special kind of obsessive love you feel when you’re 16, I’m not sure it ever would have happened. He was pretty cool about the whole permanent turtleneck thing, but I could tell he was a little unsure; When I had to stop us making out to explain what he was going to find in my drawers, I felt like my face was going to catch on fire from embarrassment. First times, am I right?
So I was a freshman at college (don’t ask where because I’m not sharing) and it seemed like everyone around me was getting laid while I sat around in my room aggressively and frequently beating my meat in the hope that my foreskin would loosen up and let me catch a glimpse of more than just my piss-slit. As my doctor had told me more than once, there was one easy way out. But I rather preferred a solution to my problem that didn’t involve decapitating a part of my body I am rather fond of. So I turned to the Internet. And that night what seemed like a normal phimosis thread (as far as these things go) got weirder when I read a post from “Devlin_thedetails.”
“I have a fast, safe, quick, and painless solution for phimosis that I’m willing to share with the right guy. If you live in the greater **** area send me a PM and let’s see if we click”
I can’t say I really know why I messaged him. I guess I was curious. I definitely didn’t believe that he had a secret cure for phimosis, but I wanted to know what he had to say. I mean what kind of person uses a sexual health forum to try to hook up? Assuming that’s what he was trying to do, that is. If nothing else I guess I thought it would at least be good for a laugh.
So I PMed him, “Hey there, I’m in [city]. Tell me more about this phimosis treatment.”
He came back quick enough with, “Hello. Like I said in the post, it’s highly effective. It works within an hour and there are few to no side effects.”
All I could think was, “Yeah, ok, buddy.” But that seemed unnecessarily rude, so I just said, “Prove it.”
I guess he was ready for that, because in under 10 seconds he sent me a link to a private xtube vid. I opened it up. It began with a close up on a flaccid cock, resting between a pair of skinny thighs. The owner sat on some kind of medical exam table. Another person’s hands came into the frame, they gingerly lifted the dick and attempted to pull back the skin, I guess as a demonstration. The foreskin retracted only slightly before stopping, the phimotic ring pinching the glans into an hour-glass shape. Then the hands returned the skin back to its first position, and they exited the frame. A few moments later they appeared again, holding a dish with a blob of bright green goop on it. One of the hands, now gloved, took a generous dollop of the salve and massaged it onto the tip of the foreskin, the index finger gently dipping into the opening and rubbing it around the inside perimeter. Then there was a cut in the film. The dick was back in its original position; like before the hands entered the frame and pulled back the skin of the cock, this time it glided down, exposing the entire glans.
My jaw was on the floor. My heart was racing, which, looking back, was kind of a weird reaction. But you have to realize, to me, at that moment, what I saw in the video seemed like my ticket to a normal sex life, so yeah, I was kind of freaking out. When I calmed down I tried to think of something to say to the guy but the best thing I could muster was, “Holy shit!!”
The bastard sent me back a smiley emoji.
“Where did you get that?” I asked.
“I invented it,” he said.
So you’re a scientist?” I asked.
“Pharmacologist,” he replied.
“And you just whipped that up?”
“I haven’t submitted it for FDA approval yet.”
“I’m not sure I will. Phimosis is not a major priority for medical science. Most drug companies and patients are perfectly happy with the treatments that already exist. And besides that, I am a man of very particular taste.
“As you can imagine this has been a substantial time investment for me. I’m hoping to use the treatment to negotiate for a fitting reward.” I leaned back in my computer chair. A fitting reward?
“So there’s a price?” I typed.
“Mark, you probably watch pornography right?”
“Right. Are you familiar with bondage?”
I had to admit, from what I’d seen, I rather did. But the idea of participating in it had never occurred to me. Still, I answered yes.
“Mark, I like control. And I happen to think that there is one way to control a man better than any other. I want to control your cock, Mark. Completely. I want free reign to do to it whatever I want. I want to decide how and when it’s used, touched, handled. I want to make your cock my personal plaything. Now I’m not much for pain. I’m more about pleasure and need. Give your cock to me, Mark, and I can show you a world of sexual pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever seen. I can push the limits of pleasure to their breaking point.”
I had never read anything so strange in my life, but it was difficult to ignore the swelling in my jeans. He continued:
“In exchange for my cure, I will own your cock for one year. It will be mine to do with as I see fit. Think about it. Be in touch”
And I thought about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it actually. Three days later I was back in touch, even against my better judgment. I couldn’t help myself. I told him I was considering it. We chatted a little less… intensely; beside his unique sexual interests, he seemed like a pretty cool guy. He was always disarmingly direct, but hearing about his life made me feel a bit more comfortable. He told me where he grew up, what college had been like, where he worked. We chatted about TV and movies; it turned out he was a pretty big nerd, which suited me pretty well. And so eventually we set a date and a time. I wasn’t sure exactly what would happen when I showed up at the address he gave me but I knew my cock was never going to be the same.
I took a cab to the address, spending most of the ride just thinking about craigslist murderers and wondering what I was doing. The cab turned the final corner. His home was an innocuous enough looking suburban house: Two stories, dormers on the front. I paid the cabbie and after he pulled away I spent some time staring at the house. Walking down the crushed stone path to the door, the feeling in my stomach wasn’t quite dread and it wasn’t quite excitement, but either way I liked it. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Standing there, waiting for him, I half wanted to run, but it was far too late for that. I heard the door unlatch and it swung open. The man standing before me was in his mid-thirties. The brown scruff of his short beard was speckled with a premature touch of gray. As he greeted me his cool blue eyes betrayed what his mouth didn’t: a glimmer of excitement.
“You must be Mark?” he posed the question flatly.
“Uh..yeah. Hi” I shifted the weight of my overnight bag on my shoulder.
“A pleasure to finally meet you.” We shook hands stiffly. “Please come in,” he continued.
He led me into his home. Like the outside there was little to suggest anything remarkable about the occupant. Save that a single man had the income to buy a home of this size. He led me to a floral patterned couch in front of a bookcase stocked with medical literature. I sat down and he took a seat in an armchair opposite me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I think you never actually told me your name.” I laughed a little, mostly to break the tension.
“My apologies. I can be a little goal oriented at times.” He smiled warmly. “My name is Jordan Devlin. For now, you may call me Jordan.”
“Nice to meet you Jordan.”
“I thought perhaps we should talk for a little while, before we jump in. How was the ride?”
We spoke for maybe a half an hour. I found him a surprisingly pleasant conversationalist despite the circumstances.
At the end he rose from his chair and asked, “Shall we begin?”
“OK,” I said, quickly rising from my chair, eager to finally break some of the tension.
“Follow me please,” he said, and gesturing to my bag added, “you can leave that here.”
I tossed my bag on the couch and followed him down a set of stairs descending to a basement. At the bottom we turned through a doorway and my eyes were suddenly straining to readjust to the bright fluorescent lighting of the room on the other side. Jordan had done a first-rate job of mimicking a standard medical exam room. Pale blue linoleum, white walls with a matte finish. An exam table stood in the middle. In a corner was a sink, beside which sat a wheeled stool. Jordan strode over to the stool and took a seat. He beckoned me to the front of the exam bench and wheeled himself over to me. He sat in front of me, his head at about my stomach level.
“You’ll need to be nude,” he said. His hand crept to the edge of my shirt and he began lifting it up toward my head, I helped him pull it off.
“So how long have you been suffering from phimosis?” He was not wasting any time.
He smoothly undid my belt and unbuttoned my fly. I could feel myself hardening already.
“As long as I can remember,” I replied.
“So you’ve never been able to retract your foreskin?”
He looked up at me as he said this, before I could reply he pulled down my pants with a jerk. Looking at him now I saw something cruel in his eye that I had not seen before. It only made me harder.
He ran his hands along the outer edges of my stomach. I could feel goose flesh tingling across my arms. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of my bulging boxer-briefs.
“Well let’s take a look.” With that he pulled down my underwear. Immediately all six and a half inches of my stiffening dick sprang up at him. My face reddened. After a couple of years of celibacy my cock was a little over eager. His right hand rose up and he delicately gripped my shaft between his thumb and pointer finger. He pulled back. The skin moved until the tight ring pulled against my cockhead.
“So that’s as far as it will go?”
“Pretty much. I mean I can force it a little more but it hurts a lot.”
He broke into a grin. “You have a beautiful piece of meat, Mark,” he said, wrapping my shaft in his fist. He gave me a couple of pumps and I caught myself almost moaning. “And this is the exact kind of prepuce I’ve been looking to test my cream on. You’ve never been able to expose more than a few millimeters of tissue beneath the skin. I almost envy you Mark.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“You will, soon enough. Take a seat.”
I stepped out of my pants and lifted myself onto the cool bench behind me, paper crinkling beneath my bare ass. Jordan wheeled himself over to the counter and returned with a dish full of that green salve I had seen in the video.
“How does this work exactly?”
“Essentially, the cream stimulates your skin stem cells to generate new tissue at a highly accelerated rate, expanding the amount of skin you have at the opening of your foreskin. As you saw in the video, the process is quite rapid. Before we proceed I want you to be absolutely clear of my terms. In exchange for giving you a normal, healthy penis, for the duration of one year I will own your cock. It will be mine do with as I see fit. When and how it is handled will be up to me. Do you agree?”
“As long as that ownership doesn’t involve pain or bodily harm.”
“Pain? No. Nothing extreme, anyway. As I said, I’m more about pleasure. But will you feel discomfort? Oh yes, almost certainly.” He smiled wickedly. My erection pulsed in time with my quickening heartbeat, twitching merely a foot in front of his face. I couldn’t have said no then if I had wanted to. He had me. He had me from the moment he got me in that door and he knew it. My sexual frustration and curiosity had got the better of me, and though I didn’t really know what was in store, I knew I wanted it. I wanted it more then I could say.
“Sir. You address me as sir now.”
“Yes, sir.” He smiled. He wasted no more time and applied a generous dollop of the salve to the tip of my foreskin, massaging it between his fingers. The salve was cool and almost immediately produced a tingling sensation. When he poked his finger into the opening of my skin it sent shivers up from the base of my spine. And then just like that he was done. He wheeled himself back to the counter to clean up.
“What now?” I asked. When he didn’t respond I added, “…Sir.”
“Now we wait, and while we wait I get you set up for the next phase.” He stood up and walked over to me. Reaching behind me he propped up the back of the exam table.
“Lean back.” He instructed. I reclined against the cool table. He reached down to the underside and produced a heavy Velcro strap. I hadn’t noticed this feature before, but quickly he was fastening me to the table, strapping down my chest, arms, hips, and legs with straps attached to the table. There was little chance of me moving. My cock was now his to play with without interruption.
“Are you excited?” he asked, “In just a few moments we are going to catch the first glimpse anyone has seen of your cockhead.” His own erection was obvious beneath his jeans, straining against the fabric.
“Yes, sir.” It hardly needed saying given that my rhythmically bouncing cock was the focal point of attention in the room.
“Excuse me,” he said, and walked toward what I had originally taken to be a closet.
He disappeared through the door and did not return for a few minutes. I was left with little to do but contemplate the strange sensation in my foreskin, which was now somewhere between a stinging and an itching.
He returned wheeling a stainless steel cart ahead of him. On the cart’s two shelves were many strange and terrifying instruments at whose use I could only guess.
“Not too long now,” he mused, checking his watch. He disappeared again through the first door. I could feel my heart racing in my chest. This time he was gone for what felt near to ten minutes. When he returned it was with palpable excitement. He began to roll up his sleeves and said,
“Lets get started.” Using a gauze pad he wiped the residue of the salve off and cleaned the area with some sort of moist wipe. Wasting no more time, he stood at my side and I watched as he gripped my shaft between his thumb and first two fingers. He flashed me a grin, then turned his attention back to my cock. He clearly wanted to savor the moment because he began to roll my skin back almost painfully slowly. My foreskin reached the point at which I would normally feel the tight ring pull against the tip of my dick, but this time there was virtually no resistance. I moaned as I felt the skin begin to peel away from my cockhead. The protective layer that had always been there was pulling away, gliding back, and little by little I watched the helmet of my cock emerge. He skinned me entirely, until I could see the rim of my dickhead and he met resistance from the frenulum on my dick’s underside.
“Exquisite,” he said. “I’m just going to clean you up.” He lifted a moist wipe from his cart and brought it close to my cock. He started on the newly exposed inner skin. The friction of the wipe on skin that had never known direct touch was almost unbearable. I gasped, but he did not stop. He swiftly wiped a circle around my cock.
“Brace yourself.” All at once he wrapped the wipe around my cockhead and twisted a quick circle. I had never felt that kind of…pain? Or was it pleasure? I let out a cry. I swear my vision went white just for a moment.
“Are you happy Mark? Do like what I’ve done with your cock, well, my cock.”
“Yes sir,” I half whispered.
“Look at the way the dickhead swells and flares out. It’s hungry for more contact, Mark. Such a beautiful shade of red. Fear not, it will get its wish.” He leaned in and gently blew warm air across my glans. I shivered and the muscles at the root of my cock spasmed.
“Let’s all get acquainted with this new part of your anatomy shall we?”
“You’re familiar with your piss slit of course” He prodded my slit with his index finger. “Down here of course is the frenulum.” He traced a light line down the underside of my cock to the tight band of tissue. “You’ll find, Mark, that this can be a very pleasurable part of your body. You can cum with stimulation to nothing but this spot, given enough time.” He brought his finger to the front and center of my cockhead. “As you’re no doubt discovering, this is one of the most highly innervated areas of the human body, Mark.” He chuckled. “I’m particularly fond of the rim here. Such an elegant design. And yours is so beautiful.” Starting on the underside of my cock, he began to run his finger slowly around the rim of my head. His touch was almost impossibly light. But I felt every millimeter of it, every ridge on the tip of his finger. My brain lit up like a Christmas tree with the intensity of the new sensations. I gasped through rapid shallow breaths.
“Calm down, Mark, we’ve only just started,” he laughed. “Now, what I love in particular about the head of the penis is how keenly it feels, and how well it responds to different types of touch. For instance, friction…” I winced as he rubbed the dry pad of his thumb across the right side of my glans. “…can be particularly nasty.”
“Even a sensation that feels good, when raised to a sufficient degree of intensity can become unbearable. Let me show you what I mean.”
“I imagine you’ve never used lubricant on your penis.”
“Why would you?” he mused, “when you have all this lovely skin. Allow me to show you what you’ve been missing.” He picked up a tube of lube and squirted a dollop in his palm. Gripping my shaft again, he twisted his hand around, spreading the cool lubricant, and then slid it up toward my cockhead. When his hand reached its destination the need for restraints became obvious. His fingers glided slickly over my cockhead. Light and electricity flowed out from his touch down my shaft, up my spine, and across my body. I moaned with pleasure and bucked against the straps.
He paused and flashed me that wicked grin. He gripped my cock with his left hand and with his right ran his palm in a circle across the top of my glans. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. It was too much. It felt like staring at the sun. The sensation spread down into my bladder. I was completely overwhelmed, yet I managed to croak out, “Stop…! …Please…” He released my cock, and reached a hand out toward my face.
Running the back of his hand across my cheek tenderly, he said in mock sympathy:
“But Mark, we haven’t even started.”
Jordan took a step back. Inhaling deeply, he made an adjustment to the bulge straining at his jeans.
“Where do we begin?” He mused. I watched his eyes trace a path along my body, taking in my form, strapped down to the exam table. My direly-hard erection was pointing toward my face and pulsing gently. For the first time in my life my foreskin was pulled back. Well, sort of. Unused to being anywhere but covering my cockhead, it didn’t quite seem to want to stay retracted and was now in a bunch midway up my glans. Jordan seemed to notice this fact just as I did. He frowned, and clicking his tongue said,
“That won’t do at all.” He grabbed something from his tray of toys and approached me. He grabbed hold of my balls, which took a little digging considering the cool air and my extreme arousal. He began to pull them ever so gently away from my body. He clicked his tongue against his front teeth.
“We may need to make a few modifications first.” Releasing my scrotum, he reached for the strap that was binding my feet and to my confusion, released it. He did the same to the straps up to my hips. Was it over already?
“Sir?” I asked haltingly. He said nothing, merely reached under the table and swung two metal arms around into an upright position. Never having been to a gynecologist, it took me a moment to recognize these as stirrups. He patted my right leg.
“Up.” That was the entirety of the command. Was I his dog now? I hoisted my legs into the air, letting them rest against the cool plastic of the stirrup. He stood at the end of the table regarding me between my legs. I imagined my cock, balls, and hole spread out before him. I was like a goddamn feast. I studied his face for a moment. he certainly looked hungry. He gave me a wink, and to my surprise he turned away.
Jordan headed toward the sink where he produced a metal pan and filled it with water. He brought the pan back to the table and set it down below my balls, letting it rest against my perineum.
“I thought you might prefer not having your pubic hair pulled out by a rubber cockring,” he said.
He grabbed a battery-operated razor from the tray and went to work. Methodically he trimmed away my hair, starting at the top of the triangle near my right hip. As he worked around the base of my cock he had to lift it out of the way, shifting it left and right to get the best angle. Now and then he give my shaft a pump, which frankly at this point was not necessary to keep me hard. I doubted this erection would be softening any time in the next century. He worked his way across my balls, and finally down to my crack. The vibration of the razor that near to my hole was a new sensation, and I felt my ass twitch slightly as he approached.
He brushed the excess hair away, and began moistening the area with the water from the pan. Before I knew it he had applied shaving cream and began using a razor to shave away the hair he couldn’t remove mechanically. He rinsed my cock, balls, and hole clean, and patted me dry with a towel. My skin tingled, and I felt a definite breeze that I did not previously feel.
“Now we can see about keeping that foreskin out of the way.” He picked up a dual-ringed cockring from the tray. He stretched one ring between two fingers and slid it up the neck of my scrotum. He let go and my balls were forced away from my body. Next he pulled my foreskin back to its limit and stretched the other loop of the cockring down to the base of my cock, my balls were immediately pulled forward, I felt pressure build in my cock unlike any I had ever known. If I was hard before, my erection was now made of titanium. My glans swelled grotesquely. Jordan licked his lips.
He guided my legs out of the stirrups and strapped them back into position.
“I suppose,” he said, “we ought to figure out what your limits are.” I did not like the sound of that.
Jordan pulled his stool around the side of the table and took a seat. He squirted some lube into one hand. With his left he lifted my over-swollen cock away from my belly, pulling it toward the ceiling. The stretch added new depth to the pressure I was feeling in my dick. I felt almost queasy as I watched him massage the lube across his palm and fingers with his right hand. He pinched his thumb and all four fingers tightly together and the point of contact at the tip of my dick. Applying a bit of pressure he slid his fingers down and apart across my glans. A moan built at the back of my throat as my legs and arms strained against their bonds.
“Jesus,” I breathed as he withdrew has hands and went again. This time I was more ready for it, but it did nothing to lesson the intensity of the sensation. I writhed.
“Aren’t you quite the little trooper?” said Jordan, “Not even screaming yet. I guess I underestimated you.”
Jordan cupped his right hand over my cockhead. His palm came to rest against my piss slit and he let his fingers curl around against the bell of my glans. His fingernails applied the slightest pressure against the very inside of my foreskin, which was now tightly stretched across my shaft.
“Ready?” He said. He didn’t wait for a response. He began slowly twisting his hand around my cock, left and right, his fingers dragging along the rim of my head, palm polishing my piss slit. I writhed on the table, desperately wanting to twist my hips away, to pull my cock from the sensation, but I couldn’t. One turn, another, he stopped.
“Fuck Mark, I wish you could see your face. That pained expression you make is adorable… and unbelievably sexy.” He sighed. “To be honest with you I wanted to prolong your first time a little longer, but I can’t fucking take it anymore.”
He stood up and hastily unfastened his pants. Lowering his boxers he let his own uncut cock flop out. Ramrod straight and seven inches, I immediately wanted it in my mouth. But at least for now, that wasn’t meant to be. He jerked himself for a bit, breathing heavily, then he sat down and returned to my cock.
“For the finish let’s play a game, shall we?”
“Yes, please, sir.” I said. My cock wanted to explode. Forgive me if I sounded a little eager.
He re-lubed his hand and wrapped my cockhead entirely in his fist.
He looked at me and with a smile said, “We’ll finish when I do. That is to say, we’re done here when I cum. But I’m only going to stroke myself while I’m stroking your dickhead. You may ask me to stop at anytime and I will. Feel free to ask for a break if you need one. But the only way you’re getting off this table is if I get to stroke myself long enough to cum.” I swallowed hard. “You get to control your own torture today, Mark. A rarity with me I assure you. Don’t you have anything you’d like to say?”
“Thank you, sir,” I choked out.
“Good boy,” he said. Let me know when you’re ready.
He hovered beside me, one hand on his own cock, one ready to brutalize the most sensitive parts of mine. I took a deep breath.
His fist began twisting around my dickhead. White heat seared through my vision. I felt like I was going to piss myself. Waves of pain and pleasure cascaded across my brain. I tried to hold out. I really did. But I could barely think.
“Mark, you’re going to have to do better than that. That was barely 20 seconds,” he laughed. “I’ll allow that you excite me, but I’m no minute man. Perhaps I should count the seconds so you have a better sense of time?”
“Thank you, sir.” I said, and then, “Start.”
I gasped as my torment began again. This time his voice cut through the torturous ecstasy, cool and clear.
“Stop, please, stop!” I gasped. My breaths came in heaves. Jordan’s tongue darted out from between his lips. I clenched my jaw, there was only one way out of this, and every second I delayed, Jordan’s climax drifted further into the distance.
“Go again.” 100. I tried to focus on that number. Maybe if I could just get there. But Jesus! My cock ached and throbbed, my toes curled, and my mind screamed. Still that number shimmered in the distance.
Was this pleasure or pain? Was there a difference?
40 seconds of blinding sensation later. I reached my goal. And then I set another. And another.
Jordan ground his fist around my cockhead, all the while jerking himself off. How long did it last? For all I know it could have been a year. But eventually the sounds of his panting joined my own whines. Almost there. Jordan grunted and I felt a jet of his warm seed splatter across my cheek. I hadn’t even realized that he’d stood up. When the last pulse of his cum landed on my face. He finally. FINALLY released my cock. It flopped down against my stomach with a wet slap. I caught sight of the head of my dick, it looked like bright red balloon overinflated and ready to pop.
Jordan pinched his foreskin forward to milk out the last of his cum and painted it across the side of my face with the tip of his dick. He shuddered.
“That was wonderful,” he cooed. He wiped at his hands with a paper towel and reached for one of the straps that fastened me to the table.
“An excellent first session, Mark.”
“I’m sorry, did you want more?” He chuckled.
“No, I mean, but…” I looked down at my still-throbbing erection.
“Maybe if you ask nicely.”
“Hmmm… Since it’s your first time with me, I suppose I could let you cum. But there will be consequences, Mark. Do you understand me?”
“And you still want me to make you cum?” Did I really? What the fuck did ‘consequences’ mean? Was it worth it? My mind said ‘no,’ but the ache in my balls and the pressure in my cock said yes.
“Tell me again. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Please make me cum sir.”
He reached for my cock. With his left hand he gripped the base of my shaft and began pumping.
I sighed deliciously. His hand gliding slickly up my shaft—God!—nothing had ever felt more satisfying. Unfortunately that didn’t last long. He brought his right hand to the same position as before, gripping my painfully over-stimulated cockhead in his fist. Then he began pumping, jerking just my cockhead with his right hand, grinding my cock with both fists at opposite intervals, his hands meeting in the middle.
“No!” I practically sobbed. “Not like that!”
It was too much to bear. But through the stimulation, I felt my orgasm building, far faster than I expected. Jesus Christ I thought. This is getting me off.
The dam broke. My cum spilled from my cock. One hot rope hit my chin. Another splattered across my chest. But still he brutalized my cockhead.
As the last waves of pleasure died down, it became too much, I wanted to pass out, to sleep for a hundred years. Thank god it was over. He released his right hand’s hold on my cockhead.
“Was that good Mark? Did you like cumming?” He jerked me slowly with his left hand. My cock desperately wanted to begin deflating but the cockring wouldn’t let it.
“Do you have anything you’d like to say?”
“Thank you, sir.” I panted.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mark.” He smiled. “But I’m afraid I did say there would be consequences.”
We locked eyes for a moment and I knew.
“After all, you are still hard.”
“No” was all I could let out before it started. He pumped my cock with his left hand faster than ever. He slid his fingers and palm all across my helmet, polishing it clean. My vision went white.
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