talk about one-handed


Ran across yet another new sex blog (wow, is it just me, or has there been a virtual explosion the last six months or so?) and was perusing it, mildly amused, when wow. I ran across this post:

I’m taking my (not made yet) marriage vows seriously, and I’m committed to just having sex with one woman for the rest of my days. Now I’m not complaining or anything, but I do miss sucking cock and being fucked occasionally. I used to have an old friend I’d meet up with every now and then, for a few beers and usually sex. I miss seeing the bulge in his trousers. Undoing the belt, button and zip and seeing his hardening cock pushing at the material of his underwear. Pulling them down and watching it spring up, throbbing and urgent. Knowing that I caused that, and how much he wants me to take it in my mouth.

It goes on – in a most delicious way- from there. Oh, squirmy, squirmy. If I’d been a man, my erection would have split my jeans wide open reading his thoughts on cock sucking, which so closely mirror my own it’s like he’s been reading my mind.

How I love bi men. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a heartbeat between my thighs that’s in desperate need of attention… 😉

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Vikki McKay


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