Date: Thu, 22 Dec 2011 16:06:03 +0000
From: Tom Brown <a_town_of_substance@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: My Best Friend's Dad Part 1

This story is fiction, and any resemblance to real people or places is
entirely coincidental. It involves adult situations between a minor and an
adult male. If you are too young to be reading this, or if such material is
prohibited in your community, please leave.

This is my first attempt at this kind of fiction. It is intended as the
first of a multi-parter. It's more of a slow intro than a hard core sex
story. Send any comments, suggestions, pictures or ideas to
wolfman2585@yahoo.co.uk.


My Best Friend's Dad


I had been best friends with Anna pretty much since we were born. Before we
were born, in a sense - my mum got talking to hers in antenatal classes and
they hit it off really well, and we were born just two weeks apart, so
growing up we spent a lot of time together in play dates. Luckily for
everyone we seemed to enjoy each others' company, and our friendship only
deepened as we grew. I suppose it's not all that common for a boy and a
girl to be as close as that during childhood, but neither of us had
stereotypical, gender specific tastes - neither of us were into football or
guns, and nor did we pay much attention to dolls or makeup. We liked music,
dancing, sports, and TV, and we treated each others' homes as our own for
many years.

I would go to Anna's house more often that she came to mine. At first, this
was mainly because her house was so much bigger, with more rooms to play
in, although there were a couple of rooms we weren't allowed into - her
father's study was one such, along with a room with antique display cases
filled with elaborately decorated china plates and ornaments. Later on, I
was also not keen on having Anna round in case she accidentally discovered,
as I had, the odd empty bottle of vodka, hastily concealed behind a curtain
or a plant. My dad hadn't been around since before I was born, and my mum,
while always showing a careful fa‡ade to the world and to me, must have
had it hard. That's not to say I had a rough childhood - she worked hard
and we did OK, although nothing like as well as Anna's parents. Her dad had
an accountancy business, and clearly earned an awful lot. Her mother worked
there sometimes on the reception, but sometimes I thought she did it just
to get out of the house and feel useful.

I liked Anna's mum a lot. She was always relaxed and cheerful, with a kind
of tousled hairstyle that takes a lot of effort to look no effort at all,
and she smelled nice. She baked a lot, and very well, and I was often
offered a warm biscuit or pastry, fresh from the oven, on arrival at their
house. I think Anna inherited a lot from her mother - a relaxed,
non-intimidatory kind of prettiness, as well as her self confidence around
strangers and the ease with which she spoke. I was always envious of her
for these qualities, being rather shy myself. Her intelligence and academic
ability, on the other hand, I think came from her father. While perfectly
pleasant, I felt much less comfortable around him than around Anna's
mother, probably because I saw so much less of him. He worked long hours,
and when he was home, at weekends and so on, he was often working in his
study, and we had to be quiet around that part of the house. When I did see
him, he was deliberately friendly, and always made an effort to speak to
me, probably feeling that I needed more of a male influence in my life, but
despite his good intentions, more often than not he succeeded only in
making me nervous. He was physically a commanding presence, standing at
6'1, broad across the shoulders, clean shaven with a classic square jaw,
and thinning dark hair cut short. I grew fast too, and was one of the more
developed boys of my age, but was always skinny and gangly, taking a while
to grow into and become comfortable with my physicality.

Anna and I often went swimming together. We were pretty fast when we wanted
to be, but mostly we just horsed around in the water, splashing each other
or diving down to fetch coins from the bottom of the pool. Anna's mother
took us to the local pool most weeks, and sat in one of the poolside seats,
engrossed in a book, until our time was up. I enjoyed my time with Anna in
the pool, but I also enjoyed my time alone in the changing rooms. There was
a big open area with benches running down the middle, as well as a few
booths to change in more privately. I inevitably opted to change in the
booths, but on emerging in my swimsuit I sometimes lingered while putting
my stuff in the lockers, hoping to catch a glimpse of a man changing in the
open areas. Usually these were old men, which didn't seem very interesting
to me, but I was sometimes rewarded with quick flashes of a younger man's
arse or cock, and occasionally with a good view of a man walking from the
shower to the changing area with a towel slung over his shoulder. The
showers after swimming were better opportunities still for these covert
glances at more developed men, since the showerheads were arranged in an
open square, and several men chose to shower completely nude, visible to
anyone else who was showering at the time, or who happened to walk past.

On one occasion, when I was 13, I went back to Anna's house after school
with my swimming kit, which I had taken to school in preparation. Anna and
I were met by her mother, who immediately said,
	'Oh, Anna, Dan, listen. I'm really sorry, but I just can't take you
two swimming tonight. Janice called half an hour ago, she's got an absolute
crisis on her hands, her eldest has just had to go into hospital and she's
asked me to babysit the younger two. I hope you don't mind too much?
Perhaps we could go later this week.'  We both immediately chorused, like
the well brought up youngsters that we were, that we didn't mind at all,
and of course she should help out her friend. She picked up her coat and
rushed out of the door - she had clearly been waiting for us to get in
before she could leave. Anna said,
	'I suppose I should get on with cooking something, if mum
hasn't. Dad won't want to cook when he gets in. Can you stay and help? I
mean if you need to go home that's fine, of course.'  Obviously I didn't
have to go home, having planned to go swimming, and after calling my mum to
let her know what was happening, we started looking through cupboards and
the fridge to work out what to do. Both of us were quite used to helping
Anna's mum with the cooking, and I had cooked dinner at home lots of times
when my own mum had been working late. Before we could make a proper start,
however, the door opened, and we heard heavy footsteps stumping in. Anna
called out,
	'Dad?'  It was a sensible question, as this was earlier than he
would usually be home, but it was indeed her father who came into the
kitchen, looking puzzled.
	'Why aren't you two swimming? I didn't expect to find anybody
here.'  We explained about Anna's mum's friend, and he said,
	'Oh. Well, I'll take you, then. It's been a while since I went
swimming. I used to be pretty good, you know, I won a cup for it at uni.'
Anna was delighted to get to go swimming after all, but I felt slightly
uneasy. As I said, I always felt uneasy around Anna's father, especially
when her mother wasn't there, and it seemed like if he was actually going
to get into the pool with us, we would have to cut down on the silliness
and be a bit more serious about the swimming. Still, I said politely,
	'That's very good of you, Mr. Patterson, if you're sure it's no
trouble.'  It took him only a couple of minutes to grab a swimsuit, and we
all got into his car, with him still wearing his work suit.

It seemed strange to be walking into the changing rooms with Mr. Patterson,
after being so used to going in alone. He held the door open for me, then
strode straight over to the long bench in the middle of the open area. I
followed him reluctantly - why weren't we using the booths? He wasted no
time in beginning to strip off his clothes, complaining about how his
jacket might get crumpled in the locker. As he peeled off his shirt,
shrugging his shoulders to free them from the material, I started to
stare. I didn't mean to, but I'd never even thought about what Anna's dad
might look like without his shirt on. I knew he was a big guy, broad and
imposing, but I hadn't considered whether or not he worked out until I saw
his musculature rippling under the skin of his shoulders. He had solid,
defined pecs and conspicuous abs, all with a thick layer of black hair. His
nipples were little, pink nubs standing out from his chest. He was undoing
his trousers by this point, slipping them down wide, hairy thighs to reveal
white, Calvin Klein briefs that looked far too small and tight to constrain
any part of this man beast, and indeed they did look to contain a very
large bulge. I stared at it, at the black mass of hair running from his
abdomen into his briefs, almost expecting them to burst at the seams any
second. Mr. Patterson glanced up and saw my gaze, saw that I had only taken
off my school shirt before I had become too mesmerised by the show being
played out before me, and misinterpreted my slowness.
	'Christ, Dan, I'm sorry, I must be making you uncomfortable. I can
turn around, if that would help?'  I tore my eyes up to his handsome face -
his blue eyes were fixed on mine, an understanding look on his face. I was
too confused to answer, and he turned his back to me, before hooking his
thumbs into the waistband of his tiny briefs and sliding them slowly down
his legs. His arse was no less breathtaking than the rest of his
body. Similarly covered in dense, black fur, his cheeks were taut, toned,
rounded by hours of exercise, and they clenched as he reached his arms up
in a long stretch, as if revelling in his nakedness, inviting the gaze of
any who wanted to look at this superb example of manhood. I suddenly
realised that I was still in my trousers and school shoes, and I began
hurriedly stripping off and fighting to get into my baggy swimshorts,
paying no heed to the few other guys in the area who may or may not have
been looking at the skinny, naked 13 year old with everything on display,
intent only on being presentable by the time Mr. Patterson turned around
again. Mr. Patterson, it transpired, was having difficulties of his own.
	'Oh, fuck it. Sorry Dan, but I haven't worn these in some time and
they're smaller than I remember.'  They were small indeed. Black speedos,
slightly faded from years of use, and even from the back it was obvious
that they were nowhere close to the right size. The folds of his buttocks
were on display, along with a couple of clear centimetres of the hairy
flesh of his arse for good measure.
	'They haven't split at the back or anything, have they?'  They
hadn't, but the stretchy material looked as if it wouldn't take much. We
loaded our things into the same locker, and began walking towards the pool,
past the shower where a couple of men were standing naked under the water,
unconcerned by who might see them. I began to feel nervous
again. Mr. Patterson put his arm round me, and said,
	'Listen, if you see anything you shouldn't be seeing, you know,
with these trunks, make sure you tell me, OK?'  I replied,
	'OK,' but my mind was on Mr. Patterson's sudden closeness, the feel
of his side against mine, the brush of his hairy armpit on my shoulder with
a slight wetness from his sweat, and the manly smell that came from working
in a warm office all day.

Mr. Patterson had possibly sensed my slight disappointment about having to
swim with him, rather than just mess about with Anna, because when we'd met
her and got in the pool he said,
	'I'm going to do some lengths in one of the lanes. I'm assuming you
guys are OK to entertain yourselves.'  We assured him that we were, and he
immediately powered away from us. It was clear that he was an excellent
swimmer, cleaving through the water with maximum efficiency, using strong,
well timed strokes. Anna noticed that I wasn't paying attention to her, and
used the opportunity to splash me right in the face. I wasn't going to take
that lying down, and jumped right on top of her, dunking her under the
surface. We mucked about for a while, although every so often I'd look over
to where Mr. Patterson was swimming. He looked really good with the water
rippling over his back, and especially at the ends of his lengths when he
turned and his arse would stick up out of the water for a fraction of a
second. I don't know if Anna noticed these frequent glances, but she didn't
mention anything.

After a while she suggested we swim some proper lengths, and we were off,
each trying to beat the other without saying it outright. We were both
pretty natural swimmers, fairly evenly matched, and after several lengths
we paused for a break. It was only then we noticed Mr. Patterson, who had
ceased lengths in his lane and had swum over to watch us.
	'Good!' he said. 'Very good. There are a few things you could both
work on, though. Anna, you breathe a little late, which slows you
down. Dan, I don't think you kick entirely equally on each side, so the
thrust isn't straight ahead. Let me talk you through it.'  He began showing
Anna exactly what he meant about her breathing, and I watched intently,
keen to pick up any tips that would help me improve too. He was a good
teacher, explaining several times in different ways until she had
understood what he meant. Once she seemed to have grasped it, he suggested
she pound out a few lengths to practise it, while he went through my kicks
with me. She launched herself out into the water immediately, keen to
perfect her stroke. Mr. Patterson then turned his attention to me, and
started telling me about my timing and kickout, before suggesting I held on
to the bar at the side of the pool and practise just with my legs so he
could show me what he meant. He clearly knew what he was talking about, and
I was keen to get better, so I started. He was telling me how my legs were
kicking unequally, and suddenly put his hand on the inside of my thigh,
pulling it out towards him as I kicked. I carried on practising, but his
touch in a sensitive area had sent a shock through my body, and I could
feel my cock twitching inside my loose swimshorts. He carried on for a few
minutes, before saying that he thought I'd got the message and letting
go. Anna arrived beside us, and said,
	'Thanks Dad! That was really good, I actually think I learnt
something! We'd better go now though, or we'll miss all the TV before
bed. I'll see you outside the changing rooms, OK?'  And she clambered out
of the pool without another word. Mr. Patterson said,
	'After you, then, Dan,' and I hoisted myself out of the water in
front of him. As I turned around at the poolside it seemed like he was
rearranging himself in his trunks under the water, but only for a split
second, and then pulled himself up and on to the side of the pool
easily. Because I thought I'd seen him rearrange, I glanced down at his
trunks without thinking, and realised I must have been right, because his
bulge looked different. Before he got in the pool his penis had been in
front, pointing down, but now it seemed to be pointing to the side and up a
little. It was clearly a fairly large, thick bulge, and I think he saw that
I'd noticed it, because he said,
	'Shall we go, then?'  in a slightly embarrassed tone of voice.  f
We walked into the changing rooms, and he suggested that I get under the
shower first while he fetched the shower gel. There was only one man in the
open shower area, an old man, completely naked. He said hello as I walked
past him, but he was finishing up his shower, and walked past Mr. Patterson
as he returned, walking towards me and turning on the shower next to
mine. He smiled at me, before, to my intense confusion and discomfort,
starting to fiddle with the strings of his speedos, as if about to remove
them. I was so bewildered by the way my heart immediately started pounding
in my chest and I felt flushed and hot that I turned away and tilted my
head up, so my face was under the spray, with my eyes closed. I wanted to
give myself a minute to calm down and work out what on earth was going on
with my physiology. After a couple of minutes, though, Mr. Patterson said,
	'Um, Dan?' I turned my head to look at him, nervously. He looked a
little nervous too, which I couldn't understand, until he said, 'I'm really
sorry to ask, but do you reckon you could give me a hand here? I've tied
this bloody knot too tight and I can't undo it, and these trunks are so
tight that I'm pretty sure they'd split right open if I tried to take them
off without undoing the knot first. I suspect your fingers are more nimble
than mine and you might have more luck.' As I paused, he said, 'If you'd
rather not, I mean that's fine, of course?'  I realised that I was probably
being rude - after he'd given up his time to take Anna and I swimming, a
small thing like this was the least I could do, and I should probably chill
out and act a bit more normal. I said,
	'No, of course I'll try,' and tentatively reached my hands towards
his crotch. The shower area was still empty, and I was worried what someone
would think if they walked in at this moment, but I was yet more worried
that my autonomic responses would betray to Mr. Patterson that I was
excited, even if I didn't understand why. I focused on keeping my breathing
slow and appearing calm as my hands reached his trunks. His cock was still
lying sideways along the upper border of his speedos, and as I touched the
knot he hooked his thumbs into the lycra, pulling them slightly away from
his body, giving me better access to the strings but also revealing the top
surface of his penis. I could see a dense mat of wiry, coarse, black hair,
and a thick, veiny cock. I swallowed the lump that had appeared in my
throat, and tried gently picking at the knot, trying not to touch his skin,
although I could help my knuckles grazing his stomach and brushing his
pubes. He didn't say anything as I fiddled with the knot, but I wasn't
getting anywhere, and I was getting more anxious about what I was doing. It
was only a matter of time before another man came into the shower area, a
situation I would much rather avoid. I decided I would just have to go for
it, and grabbed the knot properly. This meant the backs of my fingers were
pressed against Mr. Patterson's pubes, and my ring and little fingers were
touching his penis. It felt warm, and I felt it twitch as I made contact,
but neither of us said a word as I wrestled with the knot, increasingly
desperately. After what felt like a long time, but which could only have
been a couple of minutes at most, I felt the knot loosen, and I took a step
backwards with a big sigh.
	'Brilliant! Thanks Dan, I knew you'd be able to do it. Thanks a
lot, mate.' Mr. Patterson was smiling widely at me, as he grabbed the sides
of his speedos and tugged them down to his ankles, before straightening up,
still facing me, and stepping out of them. I deliberately looked away for a
second, not wanting to be caught staring at his cock, but I couldn't wait
long before I chanced a peek. Mr. Patterson had started rinsing his hair
and didn't seem to be looking at me, but his body was still turned towards
me so I had a perfect view of everything he had to offer. I still couldn't
get over how great his body was, but my attention was captured by his cock,
now revealed in all its glory to me for the first time. It was soft, but
seemed to curve away from his body on its downward trajectory, as if on the
way towards a semi. It seemed incredibly long to me, and thicker than I had
imagined a penis could be, with a clearly visible network of large veins
snaking over its surface. He was uncut, but his foreskin had rolled back
slightly, so half of the head was on show. It was a darker purple than mine
was, with a neat slit at the end. His cock was curving over a pair of low
hanging balls, around the size of kiwi fruit, and the whole lot was
sprouting from a thick, dense thatch of bushy hair.

My reverie on his goods was interrupted when Mr. Patterson bent down to
pick up the shower gel, and offered some to me. I really hoped he hadn't
noticed what I had been gazing at so intently as I held my hand out to him,
and began washing my hair. Mr. Patterson began making conversation about my
swimming, telling me that I was good for my age, and could probably start
going in for competitions if I wanted to. I was barely listening. I could
barely believe that I was standing next to Anna's dad, who was completely
naked, and that I had been staring at his body and cock, while wearing only
a pair of shorts myself. I was very glad my shorts were so baggy, because I
could feel my own cock begin to swell a little bit.

Another guy entered the shower area, and took a shower a few heads away
from Mr. Patterson. He was fairly young, probably in his twenties, and I
couldn't help noticing that he was also fairly goodlooking. He had blond
hair plastered down over his head, and while nowhere near as muscular as
Mr. Patterson, his body was lean and toned. He wore baggy swimshorts like
mine, and carried a bottle of shower gel in his hand. He smiled across to
Mr. Patterson and said 'hi' as he turned on the spray. Mr. Patterson said
'hi there' back, and didn't seem at all bothered to be witnessed nude by a
stranger like this. The young guy started making making small talk with
Mr. Patterson, asking how his swim was, while starting to undo the knot of
his trunks. To my surprise, while continuing to chat, he nonchalantly
pulled down his trunks and stood back up again, naked. He was looking at
Mr. Patterson, and I took the opportunity to look him up and down. He had a
small tuft of light brown hair between his pecs, with small nipples. Unlike
Mr. Patterson, the rest of his torso was pretty hairless, apart from a
treasure trail leading down into a bush that he had clearly trimmed. His
cock hung down, not as thick as Mr. Patterson's, but uncut and pretty long,
with a low hanging pair of balls behind. He was washing himself by this
time, his hand sweeping down over his chest and abdomen and gently
squeezing his cock. I noticed he was looking at Mr. Patterson the whole
time. He started washing his hair, still angling his body towards
Mr. Patterson (and therefore me), exposing his hairy armpits. I looked at
these two handsome men, so comfortable in their nudity, talking easily with
no concern that they were totally on display, and I decided that if they
could do it, I could too. I wanted to be a man too, not the child in the
corner. I took a deep breath, and while the younger man had his eyes closed
washing his hair, I slid my shorts off, standing naked too. I immediately
turned my face up to the water - I suddenly felt self conscious, unable to
meet the faces of these two men who could now see my 13 year old body in
full. After a few seconds I heard them continue chatting, and I dared to
turn my head to look at them. They were standing naked, as before. Nothing
had changed because I was naked. No big deal. I realised I had been holding
my breath, and started breathing again.

Mr. Patterson turned to me and held out the shampoo. All he said was,
	'There you go, Dan,' but he was smiling as he said it, and I saw
his eyes travelling over my body. I didn't mind though. After all,
Mr. Patterson and the younger guy had both looked at each other naked, as I
had looked at them. It seemed part of being a grown up, being confident
about your body like this. And I knew my body wasn't that bad - I was slim,
and fairly toned, and I had a small patch of dark brown pubes that lots of
the other guys at school didn't have, as well as tufts in each armpit. My
dick was uncut, and around 4 inches soft. It was smaller and less thick
than either of the other two men in the shower with me, but I guessed
they'd cut me some slack for my age. I took the shower gel with a bright
smile, and started washing my hair, stretching my elbows back so they could
both see I'd starting growing hair there. Without saying anything specific,
I felt the dynamic between the three of us change. Previously the two nude
men had been talking mainly to each other, facing each other, with me as a
bit more of an outsider. Now they were both paying more attention to me,
looking at me, and the younger guy was asking me if I'd visited other pools
in the area. I really felt like I'd demonstrated my maturity, both
physically and mentally, by getting naked with these guys. I carried on
taking glances at both guys' cocks, since they didn't seem to be hiding the
fact that they were looking at mine, and noticed that Mr. Patterson's dick
seemed even thicker than it had been before, and that the foreskin, already
halfway down his head, was sliding back further as his dick jumped
slightly. Mr. Patterson grabbed his cock with a soapy hand and slid the
skin back down over his head, and smiled at me. I felt better about
earlier, when I had found myself transfixed by his naked body, and had felt
my own cock twitch. Clearly, this was completely natural, and happened to
everybody.

Soon after that Mr. Patterson rinsed himself off and said,
	'Come on Dan, we'd better get a move on, or Anna will be waiting by
herself outside.'  The young guy actually crossed the shower over to us at
this point and shook hands with Mr. Patterson, saying,
	'Great to meet you,' before turning to me. I noticed that his cock
was sticking out away from his body, rather than hanging down as it had
when he took his trunks off, and he grinned at me.
	'Really good to meet you too. Hope to catch you here again.'  I saw
he was looking down at my dick while he was talking, only a pace away from
me. He squeezed my hand before letting it go, and I walked away with
Mr. Patterson.

He led the way back into the main changing area, his speedos and shower gel
in one hand, shampoo in the other, completely nude. At first as I walked I
held my trunks in front of my dick, but when I saw that the changing room
was pretty empty, and that Mr. Patterson didn't seem bothered, I let my arm
hang by my side. A couple of guys looked up at me, but I pretended not to
notice. This was the way an adult should behave. Mr. Patterson unlocked our
locker and then turned to me.
	'Shit! Sorry Dan, I completely forgot to bring a towel. Can I
borrow yours? After you're done with it, I mean??  Having already spent
time naked with this man, and even brushing my fingers over his cock,
sharing a towel didn't seem like so much of a big deal, so I nodded. He
passed me the towel and sat on a bench, wet hair plastered down all over
his great body, and watched me dry myself. I could see his eyes travel all
over my body, and he had a look of concentration on his face. I told myself
to be cool, like it made no difference to me whether he was looking at my
naked body or not, but in reality my insides were churning with excitement
and nerves. I finished drying myself quickly, and passed the towel to
Mr. Patterson. He immediately stood up, and I noticed that his cock was
still as thick as it had been in the shower, and curving out from his body
a little. He started rubbing the towel over himself, and I watched, as he
had watched me. I was dressing myself, but he seemed to be taking his time
with my towel, turning around as he dried his arse so it was facing me. He
bent over to dry down his legs to his feet, and stayed in that position for
a few seconds, rubbing his ankles with the towel. His arsecrack was facing
right towards me, and I stared at it. I had never seen right up someone's
crack before, and I hadn't realised it could be so hairy. Coarse, wiry
hairy ran right down his crack, and I could even see his hole in the middle
of it, dusky pink, with black hair radiating out from it. His hairy
ballsack hung down between his legs. He stood up again and turned round,
and his cock was now sticking out at 90 degrees from his body. He was
standing pretty close to me, and his long, fat cock was less than a foot
from my face, at about the same level. The foreskin had rolled back
completely, and I could see the arrow shaped, purplish head, with the slit
right towards me. He reached down to his cock and pulled the foreskin
foreward, covering his head again, and then slid it back, repeating a
couple of times. I looked up at his face, a little nervous, since this
attention he was paying to his cock signified his awareness of my direct
gaze. He was smiling gently though, and said,
	'Thanks, Dan.'  He held the towel back out to me, and then started
getting dressed. He faced me as he put his underwear on, positioning his
cock to the side so it was covered, although it was clearly still fairly
hard and was lifting the material away from his body slightly. It didn't
take him long to get the rest of his suit on, and we left the changing room
to find Anna ready and waiting.
	'You took your time!'  she grumbled, but she cheered up quickly as
she started asking me about the next day's classes.

I didn't speak much to Mr. Patterson after that, except to thank him for
taking us as he dropped me off at home. He seemed quiet and serious again
as I left, how I had always seen him before. Back at home, I lay on my back
on my bed, trying to work out what had happened. Had he really been looking
at my cock? At school, any suggestion that you were looking at another guy
even just with his shirt off led to shouts of 'GAY!' and instant
humiliation. Everyone knew to keep his eyes down in the changing rooms. It
seemed that adult men were much more relaxed about it. It must be natural
to be curious about other guys' bodies. Was the way I had felt, looking at
Mr. Patterson, completely natural and down to simple curiosity? I wasn't
sure. Thinking about him seemed to make my cock stiffen again, and I pulled
off my clothes in my room to be naked again, like in the changing room. I
grabbed the towel and pressed it to my face, remembering how Mr. Patterson
had rubbed it over his body, round his balls, over his cock, and stroked my
cock as he had done in front of my face. After just a few strokes I felt my
balls tighten, and I shot further than I had ever done before, the first
load hitting my chin. I gasped, and lay back for a minute, tired, cum
soaked, and very confused.