Chapter 8: We Were Not Boys
My mind and body raced, comprised of testosterone and adrenaline as our kiss developed. I became bemused and caught in his spell. Never had I believed in voodoo, but I was quite sure the football player had immediately placed me under a hex of lust for his chiseled frame. The kiss was potent and d**k-jolting, and not once did I pull out of its generous overflow of warmth. Instead, I enjoyed it with an unending craving, caught inside its twisting emotion of bliss.
Mesmerized by our bathroom bond and swept away by his tongue action, I almost lost my balance and wilted to the floor. How I kept my position behind him was beyond any competent realization, but I did, wavering. Hypnotized, I worked the excess skin on his c**k to and fro. The motion was acquiescent an
