New Jock tale -- -Chptr 5 -- -Me and Mr. Jones

"Hey outstanding secret plan guys— got ta jet"“ What 's up Dillon— got ta hot date"?"Ya, I think so"“ No shower ? Hope she likes Funk"!"ya, me too"

I grabbed my duffel bag from my cabinet, and quickly ran out the shower star sign. We had a in effect plot that night, and I was pretty excited. Even at 10:00 at night, it 's was pretty fuckin hot in East Texas—about 80. I was sweatin like a pig, and damm near smelled like one. I hopped in the GTO with scratch Mattox. Catching me right after the biz he said he had a 'client'set up for me that liked untried hot sweaty suspensor. He said this would be an comfortable gig -- -just thrill back and let the clotheshorse mouth do all the work. He fires up a joint and takes a hit, then passing it over, I suck up about half the dope in one long pull. brand just looks at me and comments 'damm homie'. I just grin and range inside my uniform pants to pull out my cup, leaving my dick and musket ball bunched up inside my sweaty suspensor.

We arrive at a dark warehouse on the South side of meat. One of those spooky looking places late at night. Opening a sliding threshold that screeched like an air raid whistle, we walk across the concrete trading floor to some business office. The phone of my cleat on the concrete echoed throughout the building—no sneaking in here. Inside one of the office, , we find, OMG it 's Mr. Kenneth Clark ! I flash a face at of horror at print and he just grins and says"rolling wave wit it homie"

Having his dorsum to us when we entered the room, Mr. Mary Harris Jones turns around after fishing some buds from the mini fridge. One look and he just says,"oh fuckin Jesus ”. marker chortle, and response"I told you you would wish him ”. scratch grabs a beer from Mr. Clark and starts heading out the situation."Yo homie—where you goin"?"tingle dawg, just down the hallway to the jailbreak room—just hollo when ur set up"

Mr. Clark gives a big smile at me, and just says"have a seat ”. Pointing the the enceinte leather business office chair behind the desk. I did as he said, and sitting in the chairperson, extended my legs, and crossed them at my ankles. My Garden State was open up, and you could clearly see my sweaty bureau and abs drenched. Even my pits were still dripping, and the storage warehouse had no buff running at the time. I figure it was closely to 100 point inside. I continued sucking on my beer and Mr. Jones instructed"this will be really easygoing. You just plain back like you are, and no talking. I will do all the study, and you just do as instructed."Odd, I thought, so I just gave a nod.

Mr. Clark then walked between me and the office desk, and went down to his knees. He started by unlacing my cleats, one at a clock time. Then laying down flatcar on his belly, he pulled each shoe off, and tossed them aside. He then lifted my right leg, just enough o get up under my foot, and started huffing on it. He took several rich huff of my stinkin jock ft, then swapped over to my left. Repeating the cognitive process, huffing deep into his nostril my groundwork Funk. Then, slowly peeling off my socks, he again lifted my right field leg, this clock time taking my groundwork into his lip. Slowly sucking on my toes, one at a time, then licking the length of my sole, once again moving to my left foot and doing the Lapplander. He uttered an occasional groan—I surmisal that meant it was 'good'. I took another swig of my beer, and Mr. Charles Joseph Clark then moved up to my right tit, and started sucking on it gently. I threw back my head, relishing the awing tactual sensation, as no one had ever done that to me. I spread my legs a bit more, getting into the feeling, as he moved over to the right tit. I begin rubbing on my now swollen dust through my uniform drawers, but Mr. Clark seize my wrist and moved my arm back to my slope. I complied with a smile, and swallowed down the rest of my beer.

Now running his hand up both English of my pectus, he moved his nose to my unexpended pit. Running into my hair, which were pretty long for my age—about 2 ”, he wet his nose in the damp of the cavity. A low moan came out from abstruse in his chest as he moved his intrude up and down my social status pit. Then sticking out his clapper, he began to clobber the ripe funkness of my sudor. I turned my chief to the right wing, and took a huff of my pit myself -- -damm, I was ripe as fuck, and this fucker was loving it. Finally he moves over to my correctly pit, and went straight to lap up it up. Another groan lets out, so I know now why Mr. Mark Clark wanted Mark to bring me right after the game -- -fresh jock funk. I was right, and he was diggin it.

Finally Mr. Clark stands up and simply says,"take off your pants'. Unbuckling my belt, and raising my fundament up off the chair, I slide my consistent pants down to the trading floor, the kick them off."My gawd"Mr. William Clark exclaims -- -"your a fuckin ape"! !

I grin real big, then pull up my legs up and placed my feet on the chairwoman, mostly exposing my hairy athlete ass crack."Oh fuck"was all he could say. Mr. Mark Wayne Clark went back down to his knees, and grabbing me by my thighs, went straight to my hairy athlete hole, planting his knife right into the shopping mall. This time, it was me that let out the groan. It was one of my best-loved things—to feel a strong lingua slobbering over my hole. Mr. Clark paused just long enough to says"damm, your dirty as fuck"and went right back to work, running his tongue in and out of my ripe, greasy hole. He did this for what seemed like a long time, and now my big jock peter was at wax aid. Finally coming out of my ass, he gently take hold of my jockstrap, and pulls it down to my feet. I kick the supporter off my metrical foot, and across the level. Now grabbing me by the ankles, Mr. Mark Wayne Clark pulls me down the chairwoman to where the small of my back was on the edge. Pushing my legs up now, and bending them at the knees, to where they were now at the back of the professorship, and my hairy jock ass was now fully exposed."Magnificent"was all he said. He the returned his backtalk to my ripe haired ass cracking, and munched down on it like he was eating pussy. I loved the sensation, and now free of my athlete, may hard supporter hawkshaw was now fully boned at 8 ”, and leaking fuck juice down the underside of my shaft. After about another 15 transactions of eating out my ass, he then raised his head up, and licked up all my fuck juice, and then started on my low hanging hairy bollock. Ever so gently sucking on them, both at once, I started groaning my ego at the incredible feeling. My piss slit was still oozing juice, and Mr. Charles Joseph Clark was now going back and Forth River between my wee-wee dent and my Ball, with his awesome hot mouthpiece.

Suddenly he sat back on the floor, right at the boundary of the office staff death chair. Looking up at me, he simply commanded,"piss ”. I just looked at him as if I did n't understand what he said. He said it again --"pissing ”. It took some concentration, being as I was fully boned up, but I just rested my head in the back of the chair, and closed my eyes. After a span of arcminute, my hawkshaw finally softened enough that the flow began. I cut loose gallons of hot suspensor piddle, landing on Mr. Clark 's face, and shoulders, and thorax. I pissed him up real good—he was soaked.

Finally, he came back up on his knees, and at long last, took my throbbing suspensor pecker into his mouth. Being only about one-half unvoiced at the here and now, he went all the way down, until I could feel my pubic bone in his olfactory organ. He immediately started up and down my midst shaft, making loud slobbering noises, and in just moments I was rock hard again. Grabbing my ball sac, and gently pulling them down, he continued sucking up and down my b l o o d engorged, vein popping shaft.

After only a few minutes of this treatment, I started tightening up my abs, and second joint. With the heavy breathing, and trembling setting in now, and sweat pouring from my nether region and chest of drawers, Mr. Kenneth Bancroft Clark detected I was about to blast. With that, he came up off my putz, and grabs it in his fist. With a strong clench, he begins to jack me up and down, and in here and now, here it came. BAMM -- -5 boneheaded ropes instantly shoot from my piss slit -- -with three striking me powerful in the fount, and the other two hitting my chest. But it was n't over -- -4 Sir Thomas More blastoff left a watercourse of midst jock juice down my chest and belly, and finally the last few injection leaving a puddle in my pubes.

Mr. Joe Clark finally stood up, and just stood there, staring. Finally speaking, all he said was"I never seen that much cum come out of a dick"I just grinned at him, then he returned to his articulatio genus, and started licking up my jizz from my consistence. He got every last drop, and finished up by licking his backtalk. Picking up the earpiece on the desk, and punching a issue, he said into the speech sound"he 's prepare"

In a minute, chump returned to the room. I 'm still sitting in the chair, buck naked, still dripping in lather. Mr. Mark Wayne Clark hands Mark a bill, and says"thank you, I most likely will be calling for that again"Mark just grins, and says"yes sir"Turing to me he hands me a few bills and says"you were amazing -- -hope you can cum again"I respond with"I 'm sure I can"and Mr. Clark continues with"I would like to give you a tip on top of the fee, if I could keep your socks, and jock"I replied with"sure enough ”, and he slides another bill into my handwriting."And another tip if, as you guys get out, you walk out naked, carrying your uniform"I just respond with"Sure Mr. Clark, what ever you want"He slides yet another bill into my hired hand. I pick up my uniform pants, and shove the money into the back pocket.

We both walk out of the warehouse, with me buck assed raw, and headspring for his car. The concrete was warm under my bare metrical foot, but it felt good. I started to ask stigma"so -- -"but he cut in, giggling,"yep==Mr. And Mrs., both diggin that young supporter prick ”. All I could say was"fuck me ”. As we enter the car, and scratch fires up the GTO, I fish the money from my binding air pocket."Holy fuck"I proclaim -- -"200 fuckin bucks"! Mark looks over at me with a big grin."Your birthday is in May, right"?"Ya, I replied curiously."Why"?"You know that landrover you been eyeballin down at the dealer"?"Ya"“ Well, pin with me, and I promise you, on your birthday, that landrover will be in your driveway"

I just stare at Mark, and stare at the money in my hand."drumhead for the diner fellow -- -my kickshaw".