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What is my age: 23
Hobby: Lonely Sluts Searching People To Fuck
What is my nationaly: Hungarian
Who do I prefer: Male
What is my figure features: My body type is overweight
Favourite drink: My favourite drink brandy
I like: Cooking
My piercing: None
Smoker: No

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Visit Blog. Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern de and the best experience. At the time I moved back home, I felt like a total failure. Honestly, it felt like I was destined for nothing but a life of total banality and disappointment. Dropping out of college is rough, but it definitely helps having good friends around.

Friends like Mr. Well, I guess I should just call him Wes at this point. He always calls me Cade, so I should just call him Wes, right? I guess he just felt like more hands makes less work and he would save a lot of time if he had someone helping out. After a few months of mowing his lawn and doing other yard maintenance work, we started hanging out just for the hell of it.

After a few months of that, I started coming over to play poker with some of his work friends, who of course all happened to be the same brand of burly, buff, mature dude as Wes. I noticed that pretty much all of his friends—all except for the women he brought around—were gay, and I soon figured out that he was too, thanks to some snooping in his bathroom while I was using it.

That was totally fine by me, too. I guess it started when I started mowing his lawn. He would come out to do some of his own garden work—pulling weeds, laying mulch, trimming hedges and shit—but, like me, would work without a shirt on. It escalated during our porch sessions.

Several times, I swear I brushed the tip of his stiff cock head, but without any noticeable reaction from him; so, naturally, I let him do the same with me, and what should I care if he felt that I had a hard on which he did, because I so often did around him. Things really escalated during our poker nights. Since the closest guy my age in his friend group was 33—12 years my senior at this point—I was the resident cutie and was treated as such. Except with Wes… no, his touches always felt like those of a lover; gentle every time but always lingering longer in eagerness on my skin. I loved it, even more so because it gave me an opportunity to feel up his muscle tits while he felt me up.

I could never see them from my vantage during these impromptu lap dances, but Wes told me that his friends would always smirk and roll their eyes at us—I could only guess that it was because of the clearly mutual but mysteriously unaddressed attraction between the two of us.

Unaddressed, that is, until last night. He then wrapped his hand around my upper thighs near my ass and squeezed. It was almost enough for me to cream my shorts right then. The night continued as it always did—more casual lusting, more drinks, more games of poker, more jokes—until midnight rolled around, which was usually our cue to head back to our respective homes.

As we all head to the door, Wes ushering us out, standing just behind me. Then I felt it. He continued leading us out, saying his goodbyes and cracking more jokes, as I felt his hand reach up under the back of my shirt and down into the waistband of my shorts and briefs. We were basically the same height but he felt larger to me in that moment, call it the submissive side of me.

Now at the door, the first of his friends were walking out and stumbling their cars while everyone continued to say their goodbyes, as Wes hungrily rubbed, squeezed, and groped my round, firm, bare ass. I swooned and leaned against his touch, trying my hardest to maintain the secret and keep my composure, as the last of his friends trickled out. He playfully smacked my ass when it was my turn to exit, quickly pulling Male age progression stories hand out ushering me forward by my bottom, slyly pinching my right cheek as he did.

Male age progression stories in the late night air, I turned around with a fully obvious hard on and grinned drunkenly at him. What the Hell! I drove home in silence with the windows down, my shirt still off, my drying seed crusting against my faint red chest and ab hair, and my mind racing. I woke up this morning with a fucking thunderstorm of a headache. Nothing like some hair of the dog.

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I shuffled to my kitchen in my briefs, wincing at the light that poured out of the refrigerator, and pulling out a bottle of brew. I looked at the stove and saw AM on its clock, groaning and rubbing my eyes, shocked that I allowed myself to sleep in so late.

Thank god for Saturdays. I took another pull and scratched my itching ass cheek, stopping suddenly as I felt the sensation of a hand on my ass, remembering the events of last night. The sounds of knocking against my door sounded like cannon fire to my ears.

My head was pounding and the noise was like an ice pick against my ear drums. The knocks were still just as piercing. I undid the latches and opened the door, immediately regretting my decision. The light poured into my TV room and damn near blinded me. But then I made out a shape as my eyes adjusted. A tall, broad shape. He was wearing a crisp, short sleeved, pink button down, some olive slacks that had been rolled up in cuffs, and white dock shoes.

He always dressed very well, even in a casual setting, one of the things I loved about him.

I looked at him with furrowed brows, unsure of what he meant. He took a second and looked me over. I tried my best to cover myself without implying too much panic, but it was difficult considering my above-average size and how much it pulled forward the rest of the fabric in my briefs. I just smiled back, still covering myself out of pure instinct, but slowly letting my hands fall away.

My meat still pulled away at the fabric, giving Wes a bit more of a glimpse of my red pubes nestled in the front of my waist where my cum gutters met in a defined V. He looked me up and down, sizing me up and drinking in all I had to offer.

I wanted to tell him that fair is fair and he should strip down too—but again, anticipation.

I smiled stepped aside and spread my arm inwards, gesturing him in. As he walked in, he spent a few seconds just wandering around. I felt a little sting of embarrassment that Wes could see every corner of my entire residence in what had to have been at most 10 footsteps.

His home was so dazzlingly decorated, littered with artifacts from all over the world that looked to be older than European colonialism in the Americas—some way older. I was also feeling extremely horny, on of the fact that my 1 crush was touring my apartment, and the fact that his clothes were looking way tighter than I thought they were when I opened the door….

Sensing a lull in the conversation, I crossed my arms.

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I always liked the way my arms looked crossed, it always accentuated my musculature well. He seemed to like it too, chewing the inside of his bottom lip as he looked me over again.

Where do you want to start? My mouth dropped in a surprised gaping smile, my cock dully pulsing harder in my briefs. Wes had started chuckling in the middle of my statement, and I also noticed him pulling at his collar like it was tightening on him. Way more.

More than you could possibly comprehend. In fact, I could swear it was getting warmer. Wes took a few steps towards me, biting his lower lip. His teeth looked pearly white, but somehow sharper? Additionally, his shirt again looked tighter… but like, noticeably, absurdly tighter. The fabric was now stretching across his chest and abs, making narrow holes between the buttons where I could catch a peek at his hairy, firm, strangely reddening skin.

The hem of his shirt had rode up his lower abdominals, exposing his midriff.

I heard a small tear and I looked down to see the seams on the inside thighs of his pants had split, the rest of his pants were literally holding on by thre as his pants grew tighter and tighter around his legs. I was getting rock fucking hard at the sight of this. His ass seemed rounder and larger, even from my front-facing vantage of him, and his package was a huge, lumpy mass on his waist. The reddening of his skin kept progressing deeper and richer in color.

He brought my hand down and placed it over his bulging package, and I could feel his impossibly huge and hot shaft twitching and snaking larger and longer, along with a definite feeling of something churning, under my touch. His buttons began to fail, popping off his shirt and softly colliding into my chest and face.