1. Ass Structure


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

    onto the last soft creamy globs of my cum. Or rice, whichever synonym you prefer, as rice and sperm go swimmingly together. After all, they are both products of pleasurable labor. One of delayed gratification, the other of complete boredom which comes from having everything. A boredom which removes all the other anticipation and short cummings, dead beat babies. He said, "That's gross." When he entered my kitchen, the cook's kitchen, my culinary discipline disturbed him. The white globular texture of my premature beer belly contrasted the finesse of his budding abs. His slender tone could not fathom what it meant to cultivate weight. Furthermore, I could not understand how my starvation had left me fatter, and his access, skinnier. Something about metabolism I am sure. The only spectacle of similarity was our eyeglasses and height and our mutual love for cock and sweet red cherries. His forehead didn't hold a single crevice or line of stress. It was tightened and shiny. His cheeks still plump with collagen but faded enough to make him a young man ready to find himself on my turf. My jealousy rose as I crossed my eyes over his physique and attire, a blue button up with light blue jeans accentuated his magnetizing morphology. Place a body of your own in his place if you wish. When you objectify, you get all of the power of imagination. That coquettish cockiness which shivered my core into an angry stiffness led me to grab him by his chest and tear apart his shirt at the seems ...
    where the buttons clung together. His nipples were sprouting the finest of masculine soil, but not enough to take away the innocence of his unperforated pores. There was only one pore I was interested in. It was pink and ready to be perched on top of my nub like a song bird on tree branch. I whipped him around and bent him forward by pushing forcefully downward on his back. The resistance of his dermis thwarted me momentarily as the softness and moisture of his skin contrasted sharply my crocodile nature. "The sign above the kitchen sink read, no food chunks go down the drain. Using this kitchen is a privilege. Now where do you think I am going to put this sperm pool? Eh?" He seemed like a rule following Christian, the type of acolyte who always placed a condom on over the candle instead of just blowing it out with his mouth, the type whose nipples tasted like wine saturated Jesus wafers, pasty, pink, and perky. A sweet aftertaste lingers on the tip of my tongue. Yes, the things I can do with my tongue in your mouth, your tongue in mine, we sing a wet solo together. But now, I am lost for words, appalled, my anger grew more erect, the blood pushing itself outward making a dangerous tool for manipulation. I rose my sperm coated spatula and brought it repeatedly into his ass. Grinding on him, thrusting myself into him, my balls like church bells swung wildly and slapped into his and they rang like a literary liturgy. He was still in his jeans though, I came to realize this as I ...
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