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He is shy and not very comfortable wearing speedos out in public although he has the body that can pull it off. Last winter Kip had to pay up when he ...ost a bet to wear speedos with me at several Colorado hot springs (something I wrote about in detail). Without me being present, I don’t think Kip has ever or would ever wear speedos in public.A few weeks ago Kip told me this story of him having much more speedo courage than I ever thought possible. He has also given me permission to write about. There were no style points for old Rob, not with a cock like that. He never felt the need for them. I guess that’s why he never got married or had a steady girl. Oh, he had a steady stream of girls, but nothing on a regular basis. His women and he had an unspoken agreement. When they were horny for a big, no let me rephrase that, huge cock, they hit him up and he accommodated. They wanted to get fucked and he obliged, simple. Joan was deep into that agreement right now. He kept after her tight. Still slightly unsure, you joined me, glancing up and down the shoreline. It really was incredible. Desolate to either side, nothing but more rocks to be seen, completely hidden from the path above and the street just a couple hundred yards behind, and at the very end of what seemed like… anything. Looking out across the water, you knew that there were things there. Ships and towers, docks and mills, but in the blackness, it looked like the last step in the universe. You eyed me sideways,. I'm inside this cop!He drove his tongue in deeper."Oh yea boy! That's it! Clean my butt well! Yea! YEA!"Mark did as ordered, and soon the furry crack was wet from Mark's saliva. Tom was moaning. "Ooohhhh boy! Yeaaa boy! That feels sooooo good boy!"Mark grew hungrier in his exploration, and Tom was quite vocal in his appreciation – which egged Mark on ever deeper.Then Bill yelled out: "Ok Tom, enough! This boy needs another lesson." Bill uncuffed the boy and dragged him from the table. Mark.

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But I was never a "bad boy," in thesense that most people meant it.Maybe my Mom just always wanted a girl. Or perhaps she just hated men. Thatwas prob...bly it.---In the fall of my last year of high-school, my Dad left us; ran off withsome floozy. My Mom's word, that: floozy. Whore sometimes, or slut, butmostly it was "that floozy." It had a quaint, almost archaic sound to it.Sometimes she would preface it with "fucking," as in, "that fucking floozy,"with a certain unconscious irony. Fucking was. He had left the mosque after giving a strong speech, like the actor, who after a stunning performance, leaves during the fanatical applause.The snow beyond his window fell rapidly, filling the sidewalks and dusting Riverside Drive. He looked through the window, not moving a muscle, only staring vaguely at the absent-minded snow. He thought he should pray, but had little idea what he could possibly say to his Creator. The fear. People now knew him. He had been exposed to the entire mosque, and. More

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