You know the type? Brick buildings on mainstreet for one block. Drinking fountain donated by John B Turnpick the third in memory of his eldest son who...never came back from Korea. All that crap. And it was just sooooo purdy. And we started taking it apart. We claimed – those that lived – that they had been rude. They hadn’t, that was a lie. God don’t like lies. He put Milly, Bonzi’s old lady in boiling honey for that. Even a bad truth is better than a good lie, so he says. Heh man, I’m no. He rubbed my ass cheeks until they were cooled and let his fingers slide between my legs. He stroked me and pulled my cock back so it could be seen and touched then he put a couple of fingers in me and started massaging my prostate. Oh that felt good! I almost came before he pulled them out. I heard Tom say, “Who’s first?” and Steve told him to go for it so he got on the bed behind me and slid his cock into me and started fucking me hard and fast. He pumped me good for quite a while. I love. More

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