Monday, July 7, 2008

Sizzlin'










2 comments:

Anonymous said...

The guys sharing the same cock, above, are really on to something -- the delectable resiliency of the swollen urethral channel is quite wonderful to temper with the interventions of pressing tongue. Nor is "surge" control its only amenity, for there are delineating and enhancing pleasures to pursue, even in a pastime which must impress many as secondary, to the torment of the plushened dome and the lingual dilation of its gracious slit. That said, once commenced, these positions are not practical to exchange, for grievous accident can befall the handing over of the well-exerted baton; and the tragedy this spells for the entire team is very, very obvious.

Anonymous said...

The honorable choking on the stump of leather fuckmeat in its gush, is not to be sneezed at as a fault of bottomly performance, where, as here, it is presumptively accompanied by a persistent hammering of catapulted cock up his ass. Indeed, there's an implication of flattering the volume of the load, which is not to be overlooked as a tactic for gaining renewed permission to engorge it. I, on the other hand, prefer to see this inefficiency of consumption as an allegory of fuck's astounding power of blast, such that my body displaces the energy if not the excess of top's prodigious load by the likeliest channel left to it. (You may color me an enthusiast for cock). Either way, the honest drainage of fuckpaste is a factor calling for some excuse, and I've just given you my favorite....