HT100 Challenge #52 - Self-Gratification X 2
A two for one special
HT100 Challenge #52 - Self-Gratification: Rush
It wasn’t the moonshine that made him drunk, it was the *rush*. Beecher…Toby had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. The declaration of love…the hungry response to his kiss was proof. The needy bastard would have let him fuck him then and there. Spitting in his palm, Chris began stroking his cock. Closing his eyes, he was no longer in the Hole. He was back in the laundry room, Toby was on his knees, mouth open wide. Imagining Toby’s wet hot mouth wrapped around his cock made Chris pump his dick faster.
Beecher was *his* and it felt good.
HT100 Challenge #52 - Self-Gratification: Overload
It wasn’t the moonshine that burned through his veins. It was the feel of Chris’s lips against his own, it was the strong fingers bruising his hips as he pushed him back against the washer. Toby flopped down on Chris’s bunk, his hand already buried in his boxers. He laid Chris’s pillow over his face and began to pump. He could blame it on the booze tomorrow, but it was the intoxicating taste of Chris Keller in his mouth, the smell of him on the pillow that made him come so hard, so quick as he choked out Chris’s name.
HT100 Challenge #52 - Self-Gratification: Rush
It wasn’t the moonshine that made him drunk, it was the *rush*. Beecher…Toby had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. The declaration of love…the hungry response to his kiss was proof. The needy bastard would have let him fuck him then and there. Spitting in his palm, Chris began stroking his cock. Closing his eyes, he was no longer in the Hole. He was back in the laundry room, Toby was on his knees, mouth open wide. Imagining Toby’s wet hot mouth wrapped around his cock made Chris pump his dick faster.
Beecher was *his* and it felt good.
HT100 Challenge #52 - Self-Gratification: Overload
It wasn’t the moonshine that burned through his veins. It was the feel of Chris’s lips against his own, it was the strong fingers bruising his hips as he pushed him back against the washer. Toby flopped down on Chris’s bunk, his hand already buried in his boxers. He laid Chris’s pillow over his face and began to pump. He could blame it on the booze tomorrow, but it was the intoxicating taste of Chris Keller in his mouth, the smell of him on the pillow that made him come so hard, so quick as he choked out Chris’s name.