The deep sigh of someone enjoying a dream. He knew he shouldnt. It was wrong to do this. He could get caught. But then, it was wrong to do what he was...alre4ady doing. He was still convincing himself of reasons not to go any further when he laid himself down on her bed. He propped himself up on one elbow and curled himself around her head so that his penis was level with her mouth. She did not stir despite his lack of caution. Again he stroked her lips with his head. This time she moved. It was. When I was younger, a neighborhood bully forced me into the woods behind his house, pushed me to my knees, and had me suck his cock until he came. He started slowly, telling me to kiss it and then finished with his hands on the back of my head, making sure I didn’t miss a drop of his cum. I remember only kissing his cock and don’t think I ever actually tasted his cum. That day was buried in my memory for the longest time, but as I dated women, I made sure each of them swallowed every single. She sucked and slurped for a few moments more and then said, “That’s France.”She then pulled herself upright and shuffled on her knees up until she was straddling Stan’s now flaccid prick.“Aw, it fell asleep,” she said with a fake pout. “I think I’ll wake it up.”She then lowered herself down and began grinding on his limp member. It didn’t take much to “wake it up,” and soon Stan’s manhood was again standing tall and proud.“You just lie there and let this cowgirl ride,” Angel said with a big. Thankfully nobody joined us in the elevator. Although we had towels around our waists, the towels couldn’t hide the three hard cocks that were present. And, the conversation might have made any unsuspecting guest blush a little bit. The guys asked me if I liked being Spit Roasted. Who did they think they were asking? Of course I like being Spit Roasted!Right there, in the elevator, they had a scissors/paper/rock to decide who got first go on my arse. It felt like my arse was being auctioned.