Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2006 13:27:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: John Black <blackhunk33@yahoo.com>
Subject: His Grace, the Duke of Lincoln, Chapter 2.

        At the end of my shift, I returned to my quarters and sat on the
bed hard.  As much as I wanted to get into bed with the handsome Duke, I
wasn't sure that was such a good idea.  The best scenario would be that
we'd be lovers and fuck like rabbits every day for the rest of our lives,
but, what was the worst that could happen?  Well, we could get it on and
then one of us (probably him) would end the sexual relationship.  I'd still
have to face him everyday as his chauffeur and bodyguard.  That possibility
really sucked.  I'd sleep on it and decide tomorrow.

					Chapter 2


	I needed to make a decision soon if I wanted to retire by the 20th
of October.  Delay was not an option.  The Duke had offered to give me the
grand tour of his house in Berkshire and the Gentlemen's Club in London
before I made a decision.  Captain Montrose had already given me the
background, but actually spending time with Sir Alex was the next logical
step in this data gathering phase.  However, I'd have to make a choice
soon.  The 20th of July (90 days notice) was rapidly approaching.

	I asked my CO for two weeks off beginning immediately.  Surely the
Duke would be able to squeeze me in sometime during those two weeks for the
promised tour.  As there were no Embassy functions coming up soon and no
whispers of nefarious deeds directed at the Embassy by the "bad guys", my
CO approved my request.

       Returning to my quarters, I phoned the Duke.  He picked up on the
2nd ring.  "I have two weeks vacation beginning immediately.  When can you
squeeze me in for some time together?" I wondered.

	"Brilliant!  I'll clear my calendar and have Fergus pick you up,
say, in an hour?" he replied.

	"I'll be ready," I promised somewhat startled.  "He'll meet me at
the front gate, then?"

	"Yes, I'll have Fergus bring you round to the Club and we'll have
an early lunch.  He's driving a blue Bentley saloon."  By "saloon", I had
to assume it was a large sedan.

	"Very good, Sir," I replied and hung up.

	I packed a duffle bag with enough clothes to last a week, but still
traveling light.  I knew that the English weather could change at a
moment's notice, so I took two sweaters and a waterproof coat just in case.
With a last minute word with Captain Montrose (which included a blowjob
from him), I walked to the front gate and waited.  Promptly at 11 a.m. as
promised, a blue Bentley sedan cruised up beside me.  An older man, perhaps
approaching 60, jumped from behind the wheel and opened a rear door for me.
"Allow me, Sir," he bowed slightly relieving me of my duffle bag.  He
placed it gently in the boot, what they call the trunk in America and
resumed his place behind the wheel.

	"I'm Fergus, Sir," he said pulling away from the curb.  "His Grace
will meet you at his club in 20 minutes.  We should be there in less than
10."

	"Thank you, Fergus."  I paused wondering if Sir Alex had told him
why I was meeting with the Duke.  "Uh, Fergus, do you know why I'm meeting
with His Grace?"

	"Oh, yes, Sir.  You're to take my place as chauffeur and bodyguard,
Sir.  An excellent choice, if I do say so, Sir," he smiled into the rear
view mirror at me.  I looked a little concerned.  "Not to worry, Sir,"
Fergus added.  "I was the one who approached His Grace and asked him if he
would be so good as to find a replacement for me.  I'm getting on in years,
Sir, and I don't think I would be of much use to His Grace if something
untoward occurred."

	"I see; I haven't decided yet if I'll take the position," I
replied, not completely understanding the situation.  "I'm sure the Duke
will miss you very much, Fergus."

	"Very kind of you to say so, Sir," he winked at me.  "But, His
Grace has found me a position with the household staff which will suit me
well, I think."

	I sat back and enjoyed the luxury of the Bentley and the joy of
being chauffeured.  The folks at home wouldn't believe it!  Derek Jackson,
a black Marine sergeant, being driven about in a Bentley limousine by a
real chauffeur through the streets of London.  Yeah, Derek, you smokin' the
funny weed, they'd laugh.

	We arrived at the "Gentlemen's Club" as promised.  I left my duffle
bag in the trunk and walked through the front door.  Greeting me was an
austere gentleman, obviously the gatekeeper.  "How may I assist you, Sir?"
he asked, peering over his half glasses.

	"I'm Derek Jackson, a luncheon guest of His Grace, the Duke of
Lincoln," I replied, trying not to take offense at the condescending
demeanor of this supercilious twit.

	His countenance changed immediately.  "Certainly, Sir.  Right this
way.  His Grace asked me to seat you in the Library until he arrives.
Luncheon reservations have already been made.  May I offer you a beverage
of some kind: tea, coffee, juice, cocktail, or something else?"

	"No thank, you.  I'm fine," I replied more politely than I felt as
I followed him into a sumptuously appointed room.  He closed the door
behind me, leaving me alone in the magnificent room.  The mahogany paneled
walls were highly polished even if they were more than a century old.
Leather chairs were scattered about the room in conversation areas as well
as around four large and two small tables.  The walls were lined with books
of all descriptions.  There was even a genealogy section, detailing the
ancestry of each of the members.  I pulled down the one for the Duke.  It
was the largest volume of all the books on the shelves.  There were charts
and narratives describing his illustrious ancestors.  One prominent
fold-out page showed how closely he was related to Queen Elizabeth II.
Obviously, money and power married power and money.

	A moment later, another liveried gentleman opened the door and
beckoned for me to follow him.  I wasn't underdressed, but I certainly
wasn't wearing a suit or fancy dinner wear.  I started to feel very much
out of place.  "Your table, Sir," the anonymous man said.  "His Grace will
join you shortly."  He produced a luncheon menu and departed.  Although the
menu was extensive, there were no prices listed.  If you needed to know the
price, you couldn't afford was the phrase that rang through my head.
Hopefully, the Duke was picking up the tab for lunch.

	He strode into the dining room, beaming at me.  I rose to greet him
and we shook hands.  "I recommend the roast beef," he began.  "Would you
like a cocktail?"

	"Too early for me," I smiled back.

	"For me as well," he grinned.  "You see, we're learning more about
each other all the time!"  I nodded.  "Well, let's discuss more about my
expectations and then we'll talk over yours.  Fair?"  Again, I nodded.
"Because of my title," he sighed, "you'll be expected to address me as
`Your Grace' whenever we're in public.  When we aren't, please, PLEASE call
me Alex."

	"Could you be a little clearer on what constitutes `public'?" I
wondered.  "For instance, how would you be addressed when it is only the
servants and staff about?  Is that public?"

	"Ah, good point," he smiled back at me.  "Sir Alex would do then.
Very few people call me Alex.  Certainly the rest of the House of Lords
don't.  I'm `My Lord Lincoln' or `Your Grace' to that lot.  Mother, the
Duchess, calls me Alex, but again only when we're alone."

	`Then, why would I be in that select circle of those calling you
Alex?" I pressed.

	"Well, you see, Derek, I'm rather fond of you and was right from
the beginning.  Although you may not think so, we do have a great deal in
common," he said.  I frowned, wondering how that was possible.  He picked
up on my doubt.  "For instance, we're both veterans, although I'm
semi-retired.  We like order in our lives, we're alone in this world, I
more than you probably due to my heritage and title."  He sighed again as
if he were dealing with a burden.  I smiled thinking I would love to have
HIS problems!  He leaned over the table conspiratorially.  "And, Derek,
we're two, single, gay men," he whispered.  "Now that doesn't mean that we
have to do anything about it, but it does mean that we can be totally
candid with one another, no pretenses, no hidden meanings, or dodging the
inner self."

	I should have been stunned but I wasn't.  I already knew he was
gay, but I didn't think he'd so clearly announce it to me.  But, I did
think it was time to press him on his sources about my sexual preferences,
among other things.  "And what makes you think I'm gay, Alex.  I'm in the
U.S. military, in case you've forgotten, and they don't exactly welcome
that kind of person to their ranks."

	"Are you denying that you're gay?" Sir Alex asked perplexed.
"Dear, dear, my sources couldn't have been wrong on something as important
as that!" he mused.

	"Depends on why you're asking," I hedged.  "If I'm about to be set
up this close to a possible retirement date for a `less than honorable'
discharge, I'll not discuss it.  `Don't ask, don't tell' is ridiculous, but
it is what we all live with in the Marines."

	"I'm sorry, Derek, that was incredibly indelicate of me," he
apologized.  "The last thing I'd want to do is ruin your life in any
manner.  I'm afraid I've started us out rather badly on the wrong foot.
I'm so very sorry."  If he were acting, he was dazzling me with an award
winning performance.  The man oozed sincerity, the kind you can't fake.

	"Okay, Alex.  Yes, I'm gay.  How'd you find that out?" I asked.

	"To put your mind at ease, I'll tell you that none of my
information on that topic is current," he smiled.  "The information is from
your high school days mostly, some 20 years ago.  I assumed, rightly so it
seems, that the leopard hasn't changed his spots."

	"Correct."

	"I don't wish to pry, but do you have anyone currently that you're
seeing in a, uh, romantic way?" he blushed.

	"Not romantically, no."

	He grinned broadly.  "I'll not pursue that, presuming that you have
had dalliances in the more recent past."  I nodded and neither confirmed
nor denied his conclusion.  There was no need to drag Captain Montrose into
this conversation.

	"As have you, I understand," signaling that I knew he had at least
as much to lose as I did if revelations of this type should hit the scandal
sheets of London (of which there were many).

	"Your information appears to be as thorough as mine," he agreed,
"although there are knowledge gaps for both of us I'm sure."  I didn't
react at all.  Not knowing where he was going, I thought it prudent to let
him lead the conversation.  Our waiter arrived and took our order.  Sir
Alex looked up at me again when the waiter departed.  "You're perplexed by
what we don't know about each other which wasn't covered in the
intelligence briefings, right?"  I nodded, again.  He smiled wickedly.
"For instance, I don't know if you prefer top or bottom or both."  I nearly
choked on the water I was drinking.

	"Rather direct, Alex," I finally was able to say.

	"But, you do have a `prodigious weapon'.  I have it on good
authority," he winked.  "However, in my limited experience, that's no
indication of preference."  I smiled despite myself.  I'd had that
experience so many times I was sure I should write a book about it.  Some
of the biggest, hungriest bottoms I'd ever fucked were hung like Trigger.
Just as the reverse were true.  Some tiny dicks thought of themselves as
tops, much to my amusement and every other man who'd gone to bed with them.

	Finally, I replied, "I'll not dispute that, although additional
definitions may make me regret that agreement."

	"I'd rather like to find out, uh, personally," he ventured.

	"Are you propositioning me, Sir Alex?" I laughed coyly.

	"Only if you're willing," he retorted.  "I'll not press you as if
it were a condition of employment.  As far as I'm concerned, you're hired.
However, as always, you are free to decide whether or not to accept the
offer."

	"Let's cut to the chase," I suggested.  He looked a little
perplexed, but eventually understood what my Americanism meant.  "What will
the sleeping arrangements be?"

	"If we are compatible in the best sense, I'll want to be with you.
However, if not, then you'll have an adjoining room for the sake of
security," he revealed.  "Further, for the sake of appearances, there will
always be an adjoining room."  I raised an eyebrow.  "No one ventures into
the bedroom of the Duke of Lincoln without knocking and waiting for a word
of admission, even if the place is burning down."  I relaxed.  He'd seen my
concern and instantly addressed it.

	"I apologize for interrupting the citing of your expectations," I
demurred.

	"No need to apologize, Derek," he offered.  "Your questions are
valid and should be asked as they occur to you.  My expectations are
evolving and we've covered the major ones."

	"Thank you, Alex.  Now, I know that you're HIV-^Å," I began.

	"How do you know that?" he very nearly exploded.  "Medical records
in England are strictly confidential."

	"Any good computer hack can get into them," I assured him.  "But,
rest assured that I have no knowledge of any test results.  I only know
that such tests were ordered."

	"Then, how would you know that I'm negative?" he blustered.

	"There have been no requests for T4 cell counts and no HIV drugs
prescribed," I added.  "Therefore, you're negative."

	"A reasonable deduction," he laughed.  "However, my physician could
be hiding those records due to my station in life," the Duke countered.

	"Unlikely," I said.  "He's not done that for other patients who are
positive and are just as much in the public eye as you are."

	"Very thorough," he congratulated me.

	"It wasn't me," I smiled.  "But, I do have access to people who are
extremely good at this."

	"And you're negative, too," Sir Alex smiled.  I blanched.

	"You can't know that."

	"I have very sound data and can make deductions as you have.  My
people are very thorough, too.  I won't tell you who they are, but they are
probably farther up in the `food chain' I believe you call it than your
sources," he suggested.

	Our lunch arrived.  Other guests were coming into the sumptuous
dining room, so we curtailed our discussion of personal details.  He told
me more about his home in the country, most of which I already knew from
the briefing I'd received from Captain Montrose, but I let him rattle on
about it.  I could tell by the way he chattered on that he was very proud
of that old pile of stones and mortar.

	After lunch, he suggested that we look in on his apartment in the
Club, so I could see what security issues might come up.  The apartment was
at the end of the hallway on the 4th floor.  A window facing west allowed
for easy egress if the "bad guys" were at the door.  The problem was that
easy egress allowed for easy access from below.  The window glass would
have to be changed to bullet proof with steel plates all around it.
Additional steel armor would be added to all the outside walls.  I asked
about the residents next door and across the hall, wondering about their
trustworthiness.  He said they were not a problem, but would supply me with
additional assurances from his intelligence sources in the government, as
well as a private company he'd already hired.

	That made me wonder just how safe he actually was.  Perhaps, he was
a step ahead of me and my general security concerns, or there could be
threats he'd not told me about.  I'd press him on those later, perhaps at
his home in the country.  If this relationship for his security (at the
very least) were to work, I'd have to be privy to everything that smelled
even vaguely of trouble.

	We walked through the rooms of his apartment, including the three
bedrooms and the one bath.  The bathroom was a little outdated for my
tastes, but it was functional.  The third bedroom was for his mother, the
Duchess, and was appointed appropriately for her.  Although she wasn't a
member of the "Gentlemen's Club", she was the Duke's mother, so anytime she
wanted to use it, he'd given her carte blanche.  However, as he explained,
she seldom did.

	I did suggest that he change the hinges to the other side of the
door separating his bedroom from mine.  The change would give me a better
field of fire if someone burst into his room from the hallway.  There
wasn't much more I could do about the windows.

	Glancing about the room, I sighed and began taking my clothes off.

	"What are you doing?" Alex asked throatily.

	"Might as well get the suspense out of the way," I smiled up at him
as I pulled off a shoe.  "Are we compatible or aren't we?"

	He smiled and chuckled to himself.  "Yes, you Yanks are direct!" he
laughed and began pulling his clothes off, too.

	"Maybe, we should help each other," I offered.

	"Capital idea!" he grinned and strode over to me.  He unbuttoned my
shirt and slid his hands beneath the fabric, taking his time enjoying the
curve and hardness of my pecs with particular attention to my hardening
nipples.  His head bent forward slightly and he took my right nipple
between his lips and sucked.  His tongue jabbed at it, and then his teeth
pulled gently on it.  I moaned in appreciation.

	His lips moved south, tonguing and sucking down my abs to my pants.
He unbuckled and zipped down my slacks, kneeling before me.  My throbbing,
leaking dick mounded hugely in my tightie whities, soaking the fabric near
my right hip.  "I didn't know you were this big!" he breathed hotly against
the head of my dick.

       It jerked against his lips and leaked more precum.  The Duke grabbed
my shorts and pulled them down suddenly.  My dick swung up heavily and
slapped against the side of his face, leaving a sticky trail of natural
lube on his cheek.  He turned his head and engulfed my dickhead and half
the thick shaft.  Again, I moaned loudly with pleasure.

	He felt so good on my dick.  His tongue was pressing the spongy
head against the roof of his mouth, causing my dick to leak even more
precum.  I could feel my nuts pulling up tightly in their ball sack.  If I
didn't stop this soon, I'd be spraying the back of his throat with my
second load of the morning.

	I pulled him up by his arms and pushed him over to the bed.  I
finished undressing him and assumed a 69 position over him.  He instantly
swooped in and engulfed my dick again.  This was even worse than before!  I
pushed his head away gently.  "I'll cum too soon if you keep that up," I
warned.  Without a second thought, his mouth moved back to my nuts and
pulled one into his mouth, humming.  I'd never had a hum job before.  This
was so good!  He spit that one out and took the other one in and repeated
his skillful hum job.  His nose snorted hotly into my asshole.  I couldn't
tell if he were sniffing at my ass or just trying to breathe with my big
nut in his mouth.

	A few seconds later, I knew.  He was moaning loudly with each hot
inhale of breath.  He seemed to like my black ass with his face in it.  A
thought flashed through my mind.  Was he a rimmer, too?

	Meanwhile, I'd been sucking his dick down to the root in a slow,
tight blowjob.  It was a very nice 8" dick, slightly curved upwards, and
nearly as thick as mine.  I wondered idly if he used it on manhole.  It was
certainly one that would pleasure mine if I had the chance.

	I felt his hands on my ass and then his face between my butt
cheeks.  His tongue darted against my pucker and tried to force its way
inside.  I momentarily flinched and squeezed my ass hard.  That was a
stupid move, I told myself, and instantly relaxed again.  I loved getting
rimmed!

	His lips closed around my ass pucker as his tongue continued to
burrow inside me and sample my black ass.  Did he know my secret?  He was
certainly going for it in a big way.  I sucked harder on his dick and
tasted the first dribbles of his precum.  It was sweet.  His hands moved
from my ass to my head and pulled me away.  "I'll spray a load if you keep
doing that, too," he smiled into my butt.  When he went back to eating my
ass out, I pushed my butt harder into his face.  He relished it even more
than before.  This man, the Duke of Lincoln, was a certifiable butt pig!  I
liked where this was heading.

	The longer he ate my ass, the more I wanted to get fucked.  That
was the secret I wondered if he knew.  A good rimming will get me to flip
over and take it up the butt easily, despite the outward signs that I was
exclusively a top.

	I pulled off his dick and asked, "You wanna fuck me, doncha?"

	"Whatever you want, Derek," he grinned around my ass.  "This ass of
yours is perfect!"

	I turned around and squatted over his upright, thick dick.  He
aimed the head at my winking hole and pushed up slowly.  My ass lips parted
and I felt the thickness of his manhood.  It had been many months since I'd
been fucked.  I was very tight, so I pulled back off his thickness.  The
stinging was overwhelming.  "I'll need a moment.  You're very big, Alex,
and I haven't done this in a while."  He nodded and crunched forward to
suck the head of my dick.  It passed between his lips and his tongue
polished the leaking knob.

	I tried again.  This time, I went more slowly and my ass relaxed
better.  With a smile on my face, I finally touched bottom, grinding my
asshole into his pubes.  "Damn, you're big!" I whispered hoarsely.

	"I don't compare to you, Derek," he allowed, ejecting my dick from
his sucking face.  He concentrated on fucking up into my ass.  I tried to
bounce up and down on him, but that didn't work as well as his hips
thrusting up into me.  As his pace increased, my hard dick slung precum in
a widening circle, mostly on Alex.  His hands held me down into his upward
thrusts, going for maximum penetration and pleasure.  "I'm so close," he
whispered.  "Do you wish me to disconnect?"

	"Gawd, No!" I begged.  "Fuck me!"

	I jacked at my bouncing dick, but he slapped my hand away.  "That's
for later," he grinned, but quickened his pace.  "Oh, Derek!  You're so
GOOD!" he croaked.  I felt his dick jerk and swell inside me.  He thrust
upward, burying his dick all the way inside me and held me hard against
him.  Warmth spread quickly inside me in spurts, timed to his thrashing
body beneath me.  I'd not taken a load bareback in at least two years,
since my last lover and I had parted.

	I sat back on his hardness, enjoying the swollen manhood inside me.
His short thrusts were giving him incredible pleasure as his smiling face
demonstrated.  "Yeah, Baby!  Breed my black ass!" I praised.  He looked up
at me and smiled.  Another climax wave crashed over him and his body jerked
again.

	"I haven't emptied my balls that hard in many years," he sighed
dreamily.  "Your ass certainly knows how to milk a fucking cock."

	"I haven't had that much practice being a bottom, but I assume it
happens naturally," I said.  I pulled slowly off his hard, but softening
dick.  It exited with a soft plop.  He's shot so far up my ass that I knew
there was little chance for leakage, yet.

	"Your turn," he directed.

	I looked at him.  "You want to suck me off or am I gonna fuck you?"

	"Fuck me, of course," he laughed.  "It's only fair!"  He raised his
legs and his semi-hard dick landed wetly on his abs.

	"We're gonna need a gallon of lube if you intend to take me," I
cautioned.

	"Next to the bed, there," he smiled, pointing to the nightstand.  I
opened the top drawer and pulled out a tube of KY.  "It'll do until we find
something more suitable," he added.  He pulled his knees into his chest.
His ass cheeks split and exposed his butthole.  I stared at it hungrily.
As much as I liked to be rimmed, I loved to rim even more.  I pushed his
legs harder into his chest.  That pulled his ass off the bed a few inches
and pointed his love opening upward.  I dove in without warning and speared
his pucker with my tongue.  My lips instantly closed over his hole and
sucked greedily.  My tongue tasted ass, but it wasn't at all objectionable.
"Oh, FUCK!  Derek!" he moaned loudly.  "That surely wasn't in the report!"

	My dick was jerking hard, about ready to fire without touching it.
I had to mount this man or spray the outside of his upturned ass.  I
preferred the former.  With speed, I squeezed lube on to my fingers and
pressed two inside him.  He winced, but opened up rapidly.  My dick jerked
again.  This was becoming a race and I wasn't sure I would win.  Without
lubing up my dick, I aimed at his lube smeared hole and pushed.  Alex
groaned and pulled his ass cheeks farther apart.  I rocketed forward and
savaged his prostate ruthlessly.  Reluctantly, I pulled back, knowing I'd
ruin him forever if I tried to jam my 10" dick all the way in with one hard
thrust.  Besides, it might not be the length as much as the thickness that
would tear him up.  I'd measured it at 6" around at the head and 6.5" at
the root.

	His hands moved instantly from his ass to my lower abs, trying to
prevent me from pushing deeper.  "I'll need a moment, please," he winced.
He finally looked into my eyes and smiled.  "You're magnificently hung!
I've never experienced anyone like you."

	"I'll try to hold back," I promised.  "But, I'm so close and your
ass is so tight and hungry."

	"You have no idea how much I've needed this.  I've not been fucked
since, well, I needn't reveal the details," he diverted.  I knew he meant
the other young Lord who was married and had been found out by the guy's
wife.  "I hope I can take all of you," he groaned.

	I pulled back more and waited.  His countenance changed to relief.
I pushed slowly back into him.  He only tensed up a little when I reached
the half way point.  Again, I withdrew.  We repeated this several more
times.  On each withdrawal and thrust, I made doubly sure that I was
hitting his prostate.  He needed maximum pleasure out of this or I'd rarely
get to fuck him again.

	Finally, I reached the bottom and ground in my thick root.  "My,
yes!" he smiled in triumph.  "I did take it all!"

	With the very slow pace we'd adopted, I'd retreated from the climax
abyss.  With some luck, I'd be able to get a real fuck out of this and Sir
Alex would get a butt full of my baby gravy.  He smiled up at me and
nodded.  With permission granted, I began a more deliberate fucking motion,
albeit slower than I usually fuck.  But, it was faster than we'd been
going.

	His dick was beginning to recover, jerking more profoundly each
time I hit his prostate.  He squeezed KY on to his fingertips and slowly
jacked himself in rhythm to my thrusts.  The faster I fucked him, the
faster he beat his meat.

	In a dash to the finish line, I was powerfucking his ass so hard
and so deep that he couldn't have stopped me if he'd wanted to.  My muscles
bunched up and pounded his butt, ravaging his upturned hole with my
thickness.  One of his hands was on my ass and the other flailed his dick.
My nuts boiled and drew up tightly against the base of my dick.  I could
feel them rub against his ass lips.  We were reaching a fevered level when
he suddenly blurted out, "Derek!  I'm gonna blow!"

	I slapped his hand away and bent over as far as I could, captured
his dick between my lips, and sucked hard.  His hips thrust upwards and
then back, impaling himself on me and shoving his dick harder between my
sucking lips.  My climax broke hard and my jizz sprayed deeply in massive
gushes that mirrored his.  Even though he'd cum only a few minutes ago, his
load was plentiful.

	I pumped him hard, spraying incredible quantities of sperm into his
aristocratic ass.  Six jerks of my dick delivered a bountiful series of
thick creamy ropes of jizz.  He squirted out three and pushed my face away,
his dick too sensitive to continue in my sucking maw.  I continued to pump
and thrash atop him.  Long, deep strokes fucked his hungry hole.  I didn't
want it to end.  I'd sprayed so much DNA up his ass that my thrusts into
him had become squishy.

	But, my climax finally waned and I stopped.  His hands continued to
hold me in place.  I knew his legs had to be tiring, but right now, neither
of us cared.

	I pulled slowly from his ass and glanced down at my cum-streaked,
wide dick as it exited.

	"That was the best interview I've ever conducted," he smiled up to
me.  He lowered his legs and pulled me down to him.  We kissed tenderly,
liked we'd been doing it for years.


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