Defenseman No. 9 - Xavier Neal Page 0,26
yet no less enthusiastic – to see his girlfriend confidently in the groove. Poor girl isn’t keen on moving her feet if she doesn’t absolutely have to – apparently, she’s pretty klutzy. Reassuring her arms can be sexy, and demonstrating how, unleashed some fearlessness her boyfriend is soaking up by the way his hands are gliding across the areas she’s emphasizing with suggestive self-strokes and points.
Around the same time his friends drift over to dance with their significant others, Hugo winds one arm around my lower midsection, buries his face in the crook of my neck, and gently rocks with me to the beat. Our swaying isn’t enough to screw up my filming; however, it is enough to let me know two important things.
He isn’t afraid to be affectionate where the guys can see.
And, his dick is hard enough to knock out the dolphins they probably came across while trying to body board.
The wordless outro prompts Stratton to hoist Tatum over his shoulder and announce, “I’ma go enjoy that yummy yummy…”
Her loud squeaks are echoed by Poppy’s who meets the same fate. “Hold on to your glasses, Hootie.”
Mo is the only one not shocked by her boyfriend’s caveman style behavior or the fact he’s slapping her ass to the beat of the song.
Peck simply strolls along behind them, shaking his head, though I don’t know if it’s from their sexually charged actions or irritation about the sounds he’s about to suffer through.
Hugo possessively groans against my neck and steals the smallest bite of the skin in its proximity.
I’m barely able to end the recording before my eyes are falling shut.
His hand glides a little further down, grazing over my swim trunks-covered cock, and I can’t stop the moan that rushes past my parted lips. Feeling him smile makes me smile. And, feeling him turned on convinces me to test just how turned on he truly is.
“I’ve got that yummy yummy, too,” I announce in a teasing tone. “Wanna taste it?”
A body shaking growl is attached to a good cupping of my cock. “Y-y-yes.”
The stuttering further emphasizes his hot and bothered demeanor, which deepens my grin. “On your knees, Boo.”
My lids pop back open just in time to witness Hugo’s swift, graceful movement. One second, he’s grinding against me and the next he’s on his knees, greedily tugging my shorts down like I’m the only thing on the lunch menu. Surprise can’t settle into my expression courtesy of my cock being imprisoned in the dripping wet dungeon known as Hugo Rhinehart’s mouth. Instead, my jaw hits the top of his head on a loud groan while my eyes roll so far back into my head there’s no denying that they knock into my brain. His fingers anchor themselves onto my ass that needed to be hit by the midday sun, and I can’t do anything but gasp at the delicious bite of pain it causes.
This is on the rarer side for me.
Not the ass pain.
I’m beyond used to be spanked, scratched, and bruised.
Essentially punished for whatever it is the one fucking me can think of.
I’m not used to being the first one to have his dick in someone’s mouth in a sexual scenario.
Most guys I hook up with want everything to happen for them first. Establish roles. Make sure I know who wears the slippers and who wears the sneakers so to speak. They get to get off, and if there’s time or they’re still in the mood, they’ll take care of me if I haven’t already taken care of myself. Typically, I do. I’ve been with enough guys to know better than to wait the fuck around for me “to get mine”. No. I’m gonna get mine, especially if you get yours, even it means having to take matters into my own hands. Literally.
Hugo hums at the tastes floating in his mouth as the tip of his nose reaches the base of my dick. The light brushes of it against the hairless territory cause my knees to buckle and my hand to tangle into his hair for support. His sucks are rhythmically slow with his tongue sliding along the underside of my shaft. Pacing is predictable but fucking pleasing. And, it takes me longer than it should to realize he’s mimicking the music that’s faintly still playing on repeat. Back and forth he bobs, breathing through his nose, groaning on the beat, bringing new life to the lyrics I can hardly believe. Like the dedicated athlete he refuses to let