"So where's the fucking pothole?" Mack yelled, as if it were our faultthat it wasn't there."Don't know," was Brad's terse reply. Brad had taken a disl...ke to Mackthe minute he met him, almost six months before. He had never found anyreason to change his first impression. I think if it wasn't for theever-present Bear, Brad would have taken Mack out months earlier."Well what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Mack asked, exasperated."How should I know?" Brad asked, leaning back against the. My arms reached around his chest. The fingers on my left hand tracing over his pecs and playing with his nipples. My right hand headed southwards, over his sculptured abs on its way to my final destination.I felt him stiffen with surprise for the briefest moment and then relax again. “Good Morning,” I said quietly into his ear.On reaching its final destination my right hand was met with ten and a half inches of solid cock. It was so wide; my fingers couldn’t touch around it. Pointing skywards,. More

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