Sex Toys for Men
Sex Toys for Men
  1. Ass Structure


    Date: 11/18/2017, Categories: Gay Male, Author: ClementVitis, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    I've terminated time in this journal but life is still filled with numbers as beautiful as the message of God, of Hermes. Every flash of a cute boy forces my lungs to collapse and revitalize like after every puff of a cherry flavored cigarette. Some guys just don't understand the need and judge the self destruction crudely, like an unnecessary violence towards the self. Each judgement, like every cock of cherry puffed upon like puff the magic dragon is a Newtonian calculation. It's Occam's razor splicing the very fabric of a nerve filled perineum as it moves up towards the black hole. While anti-climatic to the neigh-sayers of analytical numbers, this becoming is like the rising and falling of the sun, a sperm filled cell wiggling its way through the desert of a soiled sock where a cactus sucks up its prickly filled glory hole. His black shiny hair and my dry skin synthesized into an ignorance of his hypothalmic desires. I wanted him to be a gay boy, so I made him into a gay boy without checking in with the facts. So it wasn't ignorance, it was my invention, my concoction which fostered my desire. My twink like Frankenstein was left with no blemish or bruise after my procedure. A perfect experiment resulting in firm limbs, and tender caressing. It was better not knowing anything at all, he should have remained inside of me, his hot hailing reign absorbed into my tight sphincter. Contracting, contrasting, letting go of, holding onto. He should have remained preserved inside ...
    the cold darkness of the closet like the flaccid nature of a yam waiting to be eaten and warmed on a cold winter's eve. Every lap of fibrous sustenance sucked up like a desperate donation, his lovely rod rotating from orifice to orifice with its eagerness, his blue eyes squinting downward from a powerful tower of unrepentant love. Beating off and finally letting go of his white warm remorse, an offering to my cheeks. He instead remained closeted, hidden from me, which only allowed my imagination to flourish all the more freely across his body. The perfect bumps and perks of a youthful body that once brought his vibrating toothbrush beneath his draped towel to find a place to drop place his confession. His persistent agitation a curiosity which pushed apart and jerked. However, I only saw him in his towel once and all the vibrations happened properly where they belonged, on his pearly white teeth. He reached out his long slender fingers to grasp onto the confidence signified by the masculinity of my orange Irish beard. He stroked it like he would his soft budding pubic hairs when they came in three days after I had helped him shave them off with the gentleness of a Venus razor and fruity scent of the shaving gel. I would spend an hour rubbing him with the leftover cream until he came. The first night we met he had caught me rolling my hot budded tongue over the spatula I had been using to stir up my rice. That's where I received the leverage for my tale. The holes in it held ...
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