.. and I didn’t have to be a dead artist.”“I’m not talking to you for a week.”And he didn’t. He wrote down instructions and cooked his own...meals, locked his stateroom against me. He did give me hope though ... Every hundred miles north adds 2 degrees warmth. He wrote that on the instructions... 1100 miles meant 22 degrees warmer. That’s damn near 74 ... I can tan before Brisbane! Great! I don’t want to be a pale reflection of my glory.What he didn’t tell me that the two degrees was more like. I looked at his cock as it rested on his body pointing toward his chest, completely hiding his navel. It was the largest cock I’d seen and fat too. “How long is that fucking thing?” I asked.“Eight and a half inches,” he said. “An old girlfriend measured it.”“Well, damn boy, it looks like we’re both getting a present tonight!”I moved in close between his legs and slid my hands under his butt. I kissed his balls and took them gently into my mouth. I ran my tongue along the long shaft. I rose up. More

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