But I drew a complete mental blank, my usually rational mind running on empty thanks to a lack of blood. Time stood still, like my heart. My 30th celebration began on a Saturday morning in bed with my then girlfriend. Lucinda, 34 Is that someone at the door? And then his hands were on my chest, cupping and squeezing my pecs, long fingers pinching and rolling my needful nipples. I moved my hand back and forth on my clothed cock, shifting into a familiar stroking motion; and accidentally knocked the door even further open.
He rinsed himself off and opened the stall door and stepped out of the tub, gesturing at me again. Twenty hot new stories by Landon Dixon that are certain to please and tease. In that moment, which I had feared for years, the look on their faces mirrored my own, and it was a look of total disbelief. I could not have imagined a more uncomfortable scenario. Many of my straight family and friends visit the Pride parade every year, mainly as an excuse to drink and let their hair down. He grinned at me, slowly sliding his shaft up and down against my shaft. Despite the outcome being somewhat fine, those first few minutes of me standing in the nude with my also nude girlfriend in full view of my sweet parents will haunt me forever. Until he brushed rigid nipple, and my knees buckled. My mouth clanged open and my hands dropped to my sides. Share this article via email Share this article via flipboard Copy link Happy birthday indeed Picture: Advertisement Advertisement Surprisingly I reacted to being caught in the act fairly maturely. The relationship was so good that one weekend my beloved parents decided to make a surprise visit to celebrate my 30th birthday. Lucinda, 34 Is that someone at the door? I felt his cock against my ass, rising up and filling my crack, his tongue swirling in behind my ear. Despite my fairly open engagement with the local gay community, Pride was an event I had always avoided because the event is not something exclusively attended by gay people. Tough guys and tender, bruisers and bum boys. Time stood still, like my heart. I ratcheted my zombie gaze down from his smooth, muscle-humped chest, his prominent, coal-black nipples, his ribbed stomach, all the way down to his oh-so-impressive cut cock and pubed balls. In may ways it was a double whammy: Dave Anderson for Metro. I spoke with three gay men and women about their awkward experiences. Excerpt The aches and pains in my body and head were instantly swept away by a raging sea of hormones. Then another, my feet moving all on their own. He nodded, pulling his finger away from my puny chest which was a pale imitation of his broad chest. And Lester swung his head away from the spray and looked at the tall, goofy, redheaded guy with the blazing blue eyes staring at him from the doorway. I dropped my shirt on the black and white tile, my short, red hair standing up on my head like the even shorter hairs were standing up on my neck, and balls.
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