He put his lager on the bar
. Why do so many guys go out with their friends, hoping to pull a complete stranger? Don’t they realise how it puts people like me off approaching them? I mean, if I’m not overflowing with confidence, I’m not going to risk multiple humiliation by being given the brush-off in front of 2 or 3 of his mates, am I! Maybe the friends are a defence they can hide behind when they want to, only to emerge on ‘the hunt’ when they see a suitable prey?
Whatever, eventually this young guy comes into the bar – on his own – and aside from his short ginger hair, which is not my usual turn-on, he is what I would call ‘my type’; mid-twenties, not too tall, lightly built, clean-shaven, smart dresser, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and snuggly fitting jeans, providing a none-too-discreet hint of a bulge, set slightly to his left. Instead, hastily throwing off my own briefs, I crouched between his legs and focussed my attention around the base of his penis, where his testicles lay amidst a thick bed of dark ginger hair, themselves just lightly covered in softer curls of contrasting gold, like two golden eggs in a nest
. . I moan in gratification, never being the recipient of two on one attention, I am in basking in their ministrations
He put his lager on the bar
. Why do so many guys go out with their friends, hoping to pull a complete stranger? Don’t they realise how it puts people like me off approaching them? I mean, if I’m not overflowing with confidence, I’m not going to risk multiple humiliation by being given the brush-off in front of 2 or 3 of his mates, am I! Maybe the friends are a defence they can hide behind when they want to, only to emerge on ‘the hunt’ when they see a suitable prey?
Whatever, eventually this young guy comes into the bar – on his own – and aside from his short ginger hair, which is not my usual turn-on, he is what I would call ‘my type’; mid-twenties, not too tall, lightly built, clean-shaven, smart dresser, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and snuggly fitting jeans, providing a none-too-discreet hint of a bulge, set slightly to his left. Instead, hastily throwing off my own briefs, I crouched between his legs and focussed my attention around the base of his penis, where his testicles lay amidst a thick bed of dark ginger hair, themselves just lightly covered in softer curls of contrasting gold, like two golden eggs in a nest
. . I moan in gratification, never being the recipient of two on one attention, I am in basking in their ministrations
He put his lager on the bar
. Why do so many guys go out with their friends, hoping to pull a complete stranger? Don’t they realise how it puts people like me off approaching them? I mean, if I’m not overflowing with confidence, I’m not going to risk multiple humiliation by being given the brush-off in front of 2 or 3 of his mates, am I! Maybe the friends are a defence they can hide behind when they want to, only to emerge on ‘the hunt’ when they see a suitable prey?
Whatever, eventually this young guy comes into the bar – on his own – and aside from his short ginger hair, which is not my usual turn-on, he is what I would call ‘my type’; mid-twenties, not too tall, lightly built, clean-shaven, smart dresser, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and snuggly fitting jeans, providing a none-too-discreet hint of a bulge, set slightly to his left. Instead, hastily throwing off my own briefs, I crouched between his legs and focussed my attention around the base of his penis, where his testicles lay amidst a thick bed of dark ginger hair, themselves just lightly covered in softer curls of contrasting gold, like two golden eggs in a nest
. . I moan in gratification, never being the recipient of two on one attention, I am in basking in their ministrations
Pantyhose Bondage 2