Why the f**k did Brad let himself get talked into these situations?
There he stood, his arms in the air, strung up with rope, the front of his football jersey rolled up and looped behind his head, n****e clamps connected to a chain with small weights attached. His uniform pants were around his knees, a remote controlled vibrating dildo shoved up his ass.
When Nick wasn’t f*****g around with the remote he was by turns smearing on and licking off various foods to Brad’s d**k and balls. But each time his balls drew up ready to fire, Nick would stop and tease some other part of Brad’s body until the urge to come died down.
“Want a banana, Buddy?” Nick asked, peeling the fruit and mashing the flesh into Brad’s pubes.
Brad had to admit the coolness of the fruit felt nice, though God knew how
