House Painter
“How do you like the new house,” inquired the matronly woman with her wine-tinted hair pulled back into a tight bun.
“It’s great, Sylvia. Thanks for asking.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah! I need to have a couple of rooms painted, but all in all it’s good.”
“Got anyone lined up,” another teller quizzed.
“I don’t,” replied the credit union branch manager.
“My cousin, Racer, does real good work. Look,” she pulled up some images on her mobile phone.
“Wow! Those look nice. Can I get his number?”
“Sure I’ll text him now.”
“Thanks, Sienna!”
As the well-dressed manager returned to the office, the employee called out, “He says he’ll call you in ten minutes.”
“Okay. Thanks!”
“Hello,” the sing-songy voice answered.
“This is Racer. Sienna gave me your number about some painting you need done.”
“Oh! Yes, sir!
“I work during the week, but I can paint on weekends. And some evenings if that’s okay with you,” he shared, his words filled with soulful intonation.
“That’s totally cool. I’m fine with evenings and weekends.”
“What all you need painted, ma’am?”
“I was just going to do my master bedroom and bathroom. But I’m also thinking about the kitchen and one of the guest rooms.”
“I can do whatever you need. Think I could come take a look and give you an estimate later today.”
“Oh for sure. Anytime after five thirty is good with me.”
“Bet. Text me the address and I can be there by six.”
“You got it.”
“Alright. See you later.”
The deep bronze complexioned branch manager wrapped up work about an hour early and headed to the late model black Toyota Camry. The homeowner wanted to use the time and freshen up after a long day before the painter arrived. Thinking ahead to dinner, a frozen lasagna was thrown into the oven. While fixing a glass of red wine, a vehicle was heard outside so the vixen walked onto the front porch.
A long-shanked man with a warm, medium brown skin stepped out of the RAM 1500 pickup truck. “I’m Racer. I’m supposed to be meeting Val Miller,” he smiled, revealing a gold tooth, as he walked up to the house.
“I’m Val,” the banker extended a hand.
“Oh,” his eyes bugged.
“Yeah,” giggled Val. “My voice sounds like a girl I’m told.”
“No offense, but it really do,” the man chortled nervously.
“None taken.”
“Is it hot in your house or something?”
“No. Why?”
“You just got on some li’l ass shorts. No big.”
Val snickered again. “Oh. I just lounge in this. Come on in.”
“You making Italian food,” he checked.
“Lasagna. Want some? I was just about to eat.”
“I mean if you don’t mind…”
“I don't, that's why I offered. I can show you the rooms for painting after we finish eating. What do you want to drink?”
“Yes, ma’am…uh…I mean sir.”
“Don’t sweat it. What to drink?”
“You don’t got no beer do you?”
“I do. Be right back!”
Val placed a bottle in front of him and pulled the pasta bake from the oven. He placed it on the table and retrieved a bagged Caesar salad from the fridge before tossing it in a bowl. He grabbed two plates and some silverware. “Here you go,” he said, plopping salad and a large helping of lasagna onto Racer’s plate.
“Thanks!”
“Need anything?”
“I bet you don’t use Parmesan cheese.”
“I do. I totally forgot it. One sec.”
Val set the green and yellow container in front of his guest and took a seat to fix his own plate.
“Thanks for this,” Racer held up the tube. Then murmured, “A ***** could get used to this…”
“What do you mean, hun,” quizzed Val.
“Uhhhh. You heard that,” the fellow smirked as he looked away.
“It’s all good. I was just curious what you meant.”
“It’s like it’s nice to come home to a home cooked meal and somebody waiting on you.”
“Your girlfriend doesn’t do that?”
“Hell naw! She be like pick up some Popeyes on your way home. And she drove past that muh-fucka just like I got to.”
“That’s terrible, Racer. I’m so sorry. Would you like another beer?”
“Yeah.”
Val retrieved it and asked, “So, how was your day?”
“It was straight. Ain’t nothing interesting happen. Which is good. Yeah!”
“That’s great!”
“What’d you do?”
“The normal stuff. Made some calls. Visited with a couple clients and processed a few loans.”
“That’s what’s up? You like working in a bank.”
“I have a degree in that field. So yeah I do.”
“Good for you! I ain’t go to no college.”
“It’s not like it’s necessary for most of life.”
“Don’t make yourself small on my account. School just wasn’t for me. I finished fifty-nine out of a senior class of a hundred and six.”
“That’s a very solid standing.”
“Yeah, but I got a four point oh in trade school in both class work and trade work.”
“Damn! You’re a genius with that G-P-A.”
“Whatever,” he chuckled, his cheeks reddening.
“I’m serious. I’m glad Sienna recommended you. I don’t want some idiot painting my house.”
“You too much! Dinner was great!” He belched. “My bad.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s all good. I can show you the rooms now.”
Val led the way and opened the door to the guest room. “I want to change it to more of a taupe color.”
“Okay,” Racer nodded.
Val then led the way to the main bedroom and his mouth dropped open. “Oh I’m so sorry,” the slender twink shrieked, running towards the bench at the foot of the queen-size four poster bed.
“What’s that,” pried the man.
“It’s a…uh…”
“Looks like two sets of titties to me.”
“Yeah! They’re breastplates.”
“You wear them or sum?”
“Actually sometimes I do.”
“Why you ain’t got ‘em on now?”
“I didn’t think…”
“I done seen ‘em now. May as well put ‘em on then.”
“Okay, daddy,” squealed Val as he hurried over and pulled on a set of large knockers.
“What color you want it in here?”
“Barbie pink,” exclaimed the host.
“Of course you do,” scoffed Racer.
“What,” giggled Val. “I can’t help it.”
“I see,” he concurred, crowding Val’s space. “These titties soft as fuck. Feel almost real too. Bounce them bitches.”
Val jumped up and down.
“Fuck,” lamented Racer. “I ain’t never seen no shit like this.”
“Really, daddy?”
“For real for real.”
“Do you like it?”
“I uh…”
“I think you do,” Val cooed, grabbing the laborer’s jean-covered crotch.
“Yeah…I kinda do!”
“Think you’ll like this,” the slut queried, dropping to his knees.
“I can’t believe…”
He stopped talking as soon he felt the wet tongue encircle the tip of his spear. “Fuck,” he belted.
“You like that?”
“Hell yeah,” he fondled the oversized silicone-filled jugs.”Eat that dick up, bitch!”
“Yes, sir,” purred Val.
The effeminate dime piece stroked the engorged member as he worked his mouth along the shaft.
“Look at your li’l hands on this big dick, baby!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Eat all this dick up!”
Val pulled away and smacked his lips. “Am I gay enough for you?”
“Oh yeah,” moaned the man, bracing on the lush, light pink canopied bed.
“How gay am I,” pressed Val before going back to work on the meaty tool.
“Real fuckin gay!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Fuck, baby! You know how to suck a dick!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Ain’t nobody ever sucked me like this!”
“Really,” mumbled the cocksucker with a mouthful of Racer’s manhood.
“Ooh…ooh…Stop!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I ain’t trying to nut yet. I wanna fuck you in that tight li’l booty.”
“Yes, sir!”
Val hopped on the bed on all four and wiggled his pert, round bottom.
Racer licked his lips. “That pussy look pretty!”
Val spread his ass cheeks.
Racer moved closer. He spat on the clenched brown hole.
Val wiggled that slim bubble.
Racer salivated. “Your ass is so feminine!”
“You think?”
“Hell yeah! I know, bitch!”
“Call me ‘gay boi’.”
“You for real?”
“Dead ass, daddy!”
“Get ready for this big dick, gay boi,” ordered the man, spanking the waiting derriere.
“Ooh, daddy! I need that big dick!”
“You got it!”
He angled it towards the pulsating entrance. He buried himself slowly right to the hilt.
“Owwww,” whined the sissy.
“You alright?”
“Yes, daddy! Just open me up gently. Then it’s all yours.”
“Bet!”
Racer moved his loins in small circles.
“Ahhhh,” cried Val. “It feels so good!”
“That pussy feels good!”
“You like this gay booty hole?”
“I do,” he admitted.
“Take it, daddy! Fuck this gay ass!”
“Hell yeah, gay boi!”
Val arched writhing in pleasured discomfort.
The painter lifted the tart’s hips to his thrusting body.
“Fuck me, daddy,” begged Val as the collided together.
“Oh yeah, gay boi! Take this dick,” he commanded, delivering a measured, insistent rhythm of dick.
“Oh, daddy! Fuck this gay booty hole!”
Racer propped his right foot on the bed to gain more leverage. He rammed the now open hole with all of his might. His heavy balls slapped Val’s wet taint. “You fucking gay boi! You taking this dick! I ain’t never done no shit like this! Fuck!!!!”
“Yeah, fuck that gay ass, daddy! Fuck me hard!”
“I wanna see them titties when I fuck yo’ gay ass, bitch!”
“Yes, sir,” whimpered Val.
“Turn over,” he roared, flipping the featherweight on his back.
“Ooh daddy,” snickered the sissy.
“Damn right. Lift them legs up, punk!”
Val threw his silky smooth legs into the air.
Racer took hold of the limp wrist femboy’s slender ankles. He looked down at the fuck doll and became hypnotized by the jiggling of the ginormous, fake bazoongas the bitch was wearing. “Fuck yeah, gay boi! Them fake titties look so good bouncing up and down! You a real gay ass faggit!”
“Yes, sir! I’m a fagg0t!”
“I love this shit!”
“Yes, Racer! Fuck this fagg0t ass!”
“Ah hell, gay boi! You taking all this dick!”
“Yes, daddy! Fuck me!”
“Hell yeah!”
“Fuck me like you can’t fuck your girlfriend!”
“She shol’ don’t take dick like this!”
“Thank you! Is it better than her pussy?”
“Hell yeah!”
“Yes, daddy! Give me that dick!”
“This gay boi ass feel so good, baby!”
“You like that?”
“I love it, bitch,” he declared, pounding harder.
“Yes, sir!”
“You got a full length mirror, bitch?”
“Uhhh...Yeah! In the bathroom.”
“Get up and lead the way,” he ordered.
Val popped up and scurried to the en suite, but not before Racer had smacked the diminutive onion the effete one called a rear-end.
Racer’s mighty staff ****** nearly a bucket of precum as he followed the batty boy into the bathroom. It too was plush and over the top. But there was the mirror. He got behind Val and slid right back into that inner sanctum. He humped vigorously as he held onto the plastic mammaries. “Ain’t nobody ever took this dick like that!”
“I’m one of a kind, daddy,” winked Val.
“I know you ain’t lying,” he huffed.
“Give it to me!”
“Look at them big titties, bitch! Daddy loves titties, gay boi!”
“Big ol’ fake faggy titties, daddy!”
“Hell yeah!”
“I’ll make you wear these titties every time I’m over here.”
“Your wish is my command!”
“You so damn submissive. Like a true bitch!”
“Yes, daddy! I’m all the way submissive for you!”
“I love fucking you!”
“I love the way you fuck me!”
“Dammit, fag! Why you got me fucking your punk ass?”
“Because I’m so gay!”
“Hell yeah you are!”
Racer heaved in and out of Val frantically. “Take this dick!”
The sissy gasped and fought for more oxygen as the man gripped his slender neck with one large hand a squishy fake boob with the other. “Fuck me, daddy!”
“Get down there and suck this big dick some more, gay boi!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Suck all that ass juice off this shiny dick, bitch!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Such a good li’l gay boi! You like daddy’s big dick?”
“Mmhmm,” moaned Val.
“I want you to ride it so I can put my face in them titties,” announced the domineering fellow. He led the wench to bed and sat on the edge. Val straddled him. Racer smiled broadly and motorboated the rubber breasts.
“Ooh, daddy! You make me feel so girly,” rejoiced the trap.
“That’s what you are,” he reinforced through gritted teeth. “Ride daddy’s dick, gay boi!”
“Oh yes! Oh yes, daddy! I love this straight dick!”
“You like being a straight man’s bitch?”
“Yes, sir,” beamed Val.
“You’re so fucking gay!”
“And you love this gay booty hole on your straight dick!”
“You can feel how hard you got this straight dick!”
“Do I make it harder than your girlfriend?”
“You really do!”
“I’m so gay, daddy!”
“Hell yeah!”
Racer bucked upwards as Val ground into him. “I wanna nut down your throat, sissy!”
Val slid to the floor and Racer stood. He jacked his long, wet tool vigorously.
“Arrrrrrghhhhhhhhhh,” he boomed before collapsing back on the bed.
“I’ll go get you a warm washcloth,” Val said, disappearing.
Racer heard the faucet come on. He thought he could get used to this.
“It’s great, Sylvia. Thanks for asking.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah! I need to have a couple of rooms painted, but all in all it’s good.”
“Got anyone lined up,” another teller quizzed.
“I don’t,” replied the credit union branch manager.
“My cousin, Racer, does real good work. Look,” she pulled up some images on her mobile phone.
“Wow! Those look nice. Can I get his number?”
“Sure I’ll text him now.”
“Thanks, Sienna!”
As the well-dressed manager returned to the office, the employee called out, “He says he’ll call you in ten minutes.”
“Okay. Thanks!”
“Hello,” the sing-songy voice answered.
“This is Racer. Sienna gave me your number about some painting you need done.”
“Oh! Yes, sir!
“I work during the week, but I can paint on weekends. And some evenings if that’s okay with you,” he shared, his words filled with soulful intonation.
“That’s totally cool. I’m fine with evenings and weekends.”
“What all you need painted, ma’am?”
“I was just going to do my master bedroom and bathroom. But I’m also thinking about the kitchen and one of the guest rooms.”
“I can do whatever you need. Think I could come take a look and give you an estimate later today.”
“Oh for sure. Anytime after five thirty is good with me.”
“Bet. Text me the address and I can be there by six.”
“You got it.”
“Alright. See you later.”
The deep bronze complexioned branch manager wrapped up work about an hour early and headed to the late model black Toyota Camry. The homeowner wanted to use the time and freshen up after a long day before the painter arrived. Thinking ahead to dinner, a frozen lasagna was thrown into the oven. While fixing a glass of red wine, a vehicle was heard outside so the vixen walked onto the front porch.
A long-shanked man with a warm, medium brown skin stepped out of the RAM 1500 pickup truck. “I’m Racer. I’m supposed to be meeting Val Miller,” he smiled, revealing a gold tooth, as he walked up to the house.
“I’m Val,” the banker extended a hand.
“Oh,” his eyes bugged.
“Yeah,” giggled Val. “My voice sounds like a girl I’m told.”
“No offense, but it really do,” the man chortled nervously.
“None taken.”
“Is it hot in your house or something?”
“No. Why?”
“You just got on some li’l ass shorts. No big.”
Val snickered again. “Oh. I just lounge in this. Come on in.”
“You making Italian food,” he checked.
“Lasagna. Want some? I was just about to eat.”
“I mean if you don’t mind…”
“I don't, that's why I offered. I can show you the rooms for painting after we finish eating. What do you want to drink?”
“Yes, ma’am…uh…I mean sir.”
“Don’t sweat it. What to drink?”
“You don’t got no beer do you?”
“I do. Be right back!”
Val placed a bottle in front of him and pulled the pasta bake from the oven. He placed it on the table and retrieved a bagged Caesar salad from the fridge before tossing it in a bowl. He grabbed two plates and some silverware. “Here you go,” he said, plopping salad and a large helping of lasagna onto Racer’s plate.
“Thanks!”
“Need anything?”
“I bet you don’t use Parmesan cheese.”
“I do. I totally forgot it. One sec.”
Val set the green and yellow container in front of his guest and took a seat to fix his own plate.
“Thanks for this,” Racer held up the tube. Then murmured, “A ***** could get used to this…”
“What do you mean, hun,” quizzed Val.
“Uhhhh. You heard that,” the fellow smirked as he looked away.
“It’s all good. I was just curious what you meant.”
“It’s like it’s nice to come home to a home cooked meal and somebody waiting on you.”
“Your girlfriend doesn’t do that?”
“Hell naw! She be like pick up some Popeyes on your way home. And she drove past that muh-fucka just like I got to.”
“That’s terrible, Racer. I’m so sorry. Would you like another beer?”
“Yeah.”
Val retrieved it and asked, “So, how was your day?”
“It was straight. Ain’t nothing interesting happen. Which is good. Yeah!”
“That’s great!”
“What’d you do?”
“The normal stuff. Made some calls. Visited with a couple clients and processed a few loans.”
“That’s what’s up? You like working in a bank.”
“I have a degree in that field. So yeah I do.”
“Good for you! I ain’t go to no college.”
“It’s not like it’s necessary for most of life.”
“Don’t make yourself small on my account. School just wasn’t for me. I finished fifty-nine out of a senior class of a hundred and six.”
“That’s a very solid standing.”
“Yeah, but I got a four point oh in trade school in both class work and trade work.”
“Damn! You’re a genius with that G-P-A.”
“Whatever,” he chuckled, his cheeks reddening.
“I’m serious. I’m glad Sienna recommended you. I don’t want some idiot painting my house.”
“You too much! Dinner was great!” He belched. “My bad.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s all good. I can show you the rooms now.”
Val led the way and opened the door to the guest room. “I want to change it to more of a taupe color.”
“Okay,” Racer nodded.
Val then led the way to the main bedroom and his mouth dropped open. “Oh I’m so sorry,” the slender twink shrieked, running towards the bench at the foot of the queen-size four poster bed.
“What’s that,” pried the man.
“It’s a…uh…”
“Looks like two sets of titties to me.”
“Yeah! They’re breastplates.”
“You wear them or sum?”
“Actually sometimes I do.”
“Why you ain’t got ‘em on now?”
“I didn’t think…”
“I done seen ‘em now. May as well put ‘em on then.”
“Okay, daddy,” squealed Val as he hurried over and pulled on a set of large knockers.
“What color you want it in here?”
“Barbie pink,” exclaimed the host.
“Of course you do,” scoffed Racer.
“What,” giggled Val. “I can’t help it.”
“I see,” he concurred, crowding Val’s space. “These titties soft as fuck. Feel almost real too. Bounce them bitches.”
Val jumped up and down.
“Fuck,” lamented Racer. “I ain’t never seen no shit like this.”
“Really, daddy?”
“For real for real.”
“Do you like it?”
“I uh…”
“I think you do,” Val cooed, grabbing the laborer’s jean-covered crotch.
“Yeah…I kinda do!”
“Think you’ll like this,” the slut queried, dropping to his knees.
“I can’t believe…”
He stopped talking as soon he felt the wet tongue encircle the tip of his spear. “Fuck,” he belted.
“You like that?”
“Hell yeah,” he fondled the oversized silicone-filled jugs.”Eat that dick up, bitch!”
“Yes, sir,” purred Val.
The effeminate dime piece stroked the engorged member as he worked his mouth along the shaft.
“Look at your li’l hands on this big dick, baby!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Eat all this dick up!”
Val pulled away and smacked his lips. “Am I gay enough for you?”
“Oh yeah,” moaned the man, bracing on the lush, light pink canopied bed.
“How gay am I,” pressed Val before going back to work on the meaty tool.
“Real fuckin gay!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Fuck, baby! You know how to suck a dick!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Ain’t nobody ever sucked me like this!”
“Really,” mumbled the cocksucker with a mouthful of Racer’s manhood.
“Ooh…ooh…Stop!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I ain’t trying to nut yet. I wanna fuck you in that tight li’l booty.”
“Yes, sir!”
Val hopped on the bed on all four and wiggled his pert, round bottom.
Racer licked his lips. “That pussy look pretty!”
Val spread his ass cheeks.
Racer moved closer. He spat on the clenched brown hole.
Val wiggled that slim bubble.
Racer salivated. “Your ass is so feminine!”
“You think?”
“Hell yeah! I know, bitch!”
“Call me ‘gay boi’.”
“You for real?”
“Dead ass, daddy!”
“Get ready for this big dick, gay boi,” ordered the man, spanking the waiting derriere.
“Ooh, daddy! I need that big dick!”
“You got it!”
He angled it towards the pulsating entrance. He buried himself slowly right to the hilt.
“Owwww,” whined the sissy.
“You alright?”
“Yes, daddy! Just open me up gently. Then it’s all yours.”
“Bet!”
Racer moved his loins in small circles.
“Ahhhh,” cried Val. “It feels so good!”
“That pussy feels good!”
“You like this gay booty hole?”
“I do,” he admitted.
“Take it, daddy! Fuck this gay ass!”
“Hell yeah, gay boi!”
Val arched writhing in pleasured discomfort.
The painter lifted the tart’s hips to his thrusting body.
“Fuck me, daddy,” begged Val as the collided together.
“Oh yeah, gay boi! Take this dick,” he commanded, delivering a measured, insistent rhythm of dick.
“Oh, daddy! Fuck this gay booty hole!”
Racer propped his right foot on the bed to gain more leverage. He rammed the now open hole with all of his might. His heavy balls slapped Val’s wet taint. “You fucking gay boi! You taking this dick! I ain’t never done no shit like this! Fuck!!!!”
“Yeah, fuck that gay ass, daddy! Fuck me hard!”
“I wanna see them titties when I fuck yo’ gay ass, bitch!”
“Yes, sir,” whimpered Val.
“Turn over,” he roared, flipping the featherweight on his back.
“Ooh daddy,” snickered the sissy.
“Damn right. Lift them legs up, punk!”
Val threw his silky smooth legs into the air.
Racer took hold of the limp wrist femboy’s slender ankles. He looked down at the fuck doll and became hypnotized by the jiggling of the ginormous, fake bazoongas the bitch was wearing. “Fuck yeah, gay boi! Them fake titties look so good bouncing up and down! You a real gay ass faggit!”
“Yes, sir! I’m a fagg0t!”
“I love this shit!”
“Yes, Racer! Fuck this fagg0t ass!”
“Ah hell, gay boi! You taking all this dick!”
“Yes, daddy! Fuck me!”
“Hell yeah!”
“Fuck me like you can’t fuck your girlfriend!”
“She shol’ don’t take dick like this!”
“Thank you! Is it better than her pussy?”
“Hell yeah!”
“Yes, daddy! Give me that dick!”
“This gay boi ass feel so good, baby!”
“You like that?”
“I love it, bitch,” he declared, pounding harder.
“Yes, sir!”
“You got a full length mirror, bitch?”
“Uhhh...Yeah! In the bathroom.”
“Get up and lead the way,” he ordered.
Val popped up and scurried to the en suite, but not before Racer had smacked the diminutive onion the effete one called a rear-end.
Racer’s mighty staff ****** nearly a bucket of precum as he followed the batty boy into the bathroom. It too was plush and over the top. But there was the mirror. He got behind Val and slid right back into that inner sanctum. He humped vigorously as he held onto the plastic mammaries. “Ain’t nobody ever took this dick like that!”
“I’m one of a kind, daddy,” winked Val.
“I know you ain’t lying,” he huffed.
“Give it to me!”
“Look at them big titties, bitch! Daddy loves titties, gay boi!”
“Big ol’ fake faggy titties, daddy!”
“Hell yeah!”
“I’ll make you wear these titties every time I’m over here.”
“Your wish is my command!”
“You so damn submissive. Like a true bitch!”
“Yes, daddy! I’m all the way submissive for you!”
“I love fucking you!”
“I love the way you fuck me!”
“Dammit, fag! Why you got me fucking your punk ass?”
“Because I’m so gay!”
“Hell yeah you are!”
Racer heaved in and out of Val frantically. “Take this dick!”
The sissy gasped and fought for more oxygen as the man gripped his slender neck with one large hand a squishy fake boob with the other. “Fuck me, daddy!”
“Get down there and suck this big dick some more, gay boi!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Suck all that ass juice off this shiny dick, bitch!”
“Mmhmm!”
“Such a good li’l gay boi! You like daddy’s big dick?”
“Mmhmm,” moaned Val.
“I want you to ride it so I can put my face in them titties,” announced the domineering fellow. He led the wench to bed and sat on the edge. Val straddled him. Racer smiled broadly and motorboated the rubber breasts.
“Ooh, daddy! You make me feel so girly,” rejoiced the trap.
“That’s what you are,” he reinforced through gritted teeth. “Ride daddy’s dick, gay boi!”
“Oh yes! Oh yes, daddy! I love this straight dick!”
“You like being a straight man’s bitch?”
“Yes, sir,” beamed Val.
“You’re so fucking gay!”
“And you love this gay booty hole on your straight dick!”
“You can feel how hard you got this straight dick!”
“Do I make it harder than your girlfriend?”
“You really do!”
“I’m so gay, daddy!”
“Hell yeah!”
Racer bucked upwards as Val ground into him. “I wanna nut down your throat, sissy!”
Val slid to the floor and Racer stood. He jacked his long, wet tool vigorously.
“Arrrrrrghhhhhhhhhh,” he boomed before collapsing back on the bed.
“I’ll go get you a warm washcloth,” Val said, disappearing.
Racer heard the faucet come on. He thought he could get used to this.
2 months ago
