I reached and stroked it some more…feelings his balls. I knew what I was doing. I thought of granddad and the many times I had stroked his balls. H...w well I had been taught. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said. “Maybe you should confess,” I said and smiled. He looked at me and down at my hands playing on his stiff cock, fondling his ball sack: “I confess I like what you are doing to my cock. And my balls! Are you going to anoint ‘little’ Danny?” I laughed and kissed the wet tip of his. The darkness in the kitchen was so dense I couldn’t make out any features in his face, but of course I knew him just by his delicious scent that reminded me of all the memories we had as highschool sweethearts. It smelled like a mixture of cinnemon and mint and cigarettes. It was an odd combination, but hopelessly intoxicating.Out of nowhere he crushed his lips to mine, holding my face to his. I knotted my fingers in his hair, kissing him with every ounce of stength I had. A strong arm slipped. More

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