Now I am 18 and he is 22. It was very difficult to tell at first, if he was into me, he seemed to be flirting, or maybe he was just being very friendl.... When he would touch me, I would get butterflies, and I had to fight not to stare at his beautiful golden skin. I was thinking to myself all night long: “What is your problem? I must be going crazy”. He would play with me all the time and find little ways to touch me, whether it was poking me in my belly, stroking my arm when we. I knelt back, looking at him with new eyes. My cock retreated from full on fuck-pole to a father’s hard-on, proudly displayed to his son. The k**s eyes watched it, attracted and afraid. His own rod remained rigid. His skin was smeared with his own cum and our shared sweat. He gleamed, covered with our fluids.“Turn over, son,” I said quietly, and he did, grabbing one last look at me and my full manhood, taking it in, copying it for the record. He gathered a pillow to his chest, instinctively,. More

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