“But it isn’t as big as yours, dude.” Mike looked down at his cock he was holding at the base. “No, I’m not bigger I don’t think. They’...e just, you know, different. And yours looks good.” He crawled on his hands and knees over to Jake, ignoring the twigs and pebbles. He leaned down and stuck his tongue out and licked the head of Jake’s cock, then opened his mouth wide and went down until the head hit the back of his throat. He closed his mouth around it and stayed there for five long seconds. A short distance from our home was a corner gas station and combination small garage. The guy that owned and operated the gas station was an angry looking biker named Claw. He was called Claw because two fingers were missing on his left hand. He was about 45 years old with a pot belly and full scraggly beard. He seemed to always be drinking a beer and naturally drove a Harley Davidson Chopper. All the kids were scared of him and he would growl at them whenever they got to close. Except us young. More

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