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Once, after an evening playing board games and watching TV, we went back to my car and I sucked his cock. The way he smells and tastes, and the feeling of his cock in my mouth, the noises he makes as I work on it with my lips and tongue, stroking his shaft and making him groan - nothing comes close to that.I was sitting next to him in the driver's seat and I said, "Oh god, I really want to fuck you."He smiled at me and said "Why don't you? Just drive around the corner."So I drove around the corner and put the car under a tree, in a nice and dark spot, and I fucked him long and hard. Car sex is awkward at the best of times; he sat on the passenger seat and I rode him as the windows fogged up and I tried to find somewhere better to put my foot than the centre console.But that's another story.I went to visit Justin one Sunday afternoon. It was winter, but it was one of the rare days when there's not a cloud in the sky. He suggested we take a blanket and go to a nearby park to lie in the. He re-arranged the bedspread and shakily lay back down over the mattress. Mr. Dehli expertly eyed her handiwork. The purple blotches rising on the blonde flag girl’s ass were a testament to Matthew’s years of practice; the holes in the paddle added an extra dimension to the art-form, made drawing blood t the surface more likely. Two more swats like those and he was certain he would be rewarded with the red liquid. Mr. Delhi, CK to the flag girls under his wing always stopped a swat after he drew the first bit of blood;Charlotta choked out, trying to control her shaking voice. A loud crack reverberated in the small space of the truck cab, as the paddle fell again, compressing her bottom and sending him lurching forward on the bed. He wailed, letting loose a loud fart. There was a stink cloud that permeated the sleeper cab from the paddle swat which had sunk in so deep he had farted, and had echoed around the truck cab totally humiliating himself as a touch of blood adorned her right.
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