17 Loads
Added 2018-01-31 23:36:52 +0000 UTCHe would just be there. At 2:15 am, every Saturday morning. He would just be there. No frenetic wrestling and stumbling to get to the bar through a writhing mass of sweat drenched bodies. He would just be there – leaning against the bar seemingly indifferent to a room full of muscle and engorged cocks and dilated assholes and cum.
He’d order a bottle of water, pour a minute vial of clear liquid into the bottle and guzzle it back swiftly. He’d slip effortlessly on to a bar stool toward the end of the bar counter. In one swift acrobatic manoeuvre he would slide down on the seat of the stool and throw his legs back to present his hungry, twitchy butt tunnel. Within seconds, a huge, beefy power top would be sliding their thick, hard fuckmeat into the young man’s ravenous hole.
One night, I counted. How many? How many men would pump their spooge into this mysterious fuck toy? The answer was 17. Always 17. At 4:08 am he vanished. No idle chit chat with the bar staff or fellow club fuckers – he would just vanish.
