I had to go to work before Mark got home from fishing. And he was asleep by the time I got home at twelve-thirty Sunday morning. I'd had my usual ring...around-the-rosy, trying to keep out of Duane's reach. It would have been nice to have somebody's shoulder to cry on.So I climbed into bed and tried to pretend the pillow was Eric's shoulder and he'd get up and go over to Duane's apartment and call him into the hallway and beat the shit out of him. By the time I'd run that one through with six. I didn't bother to count how many, but by the time the first one slowly stretched my ass open and began worming its way out, another had just started on its way down my throat.I wasn't cumming though. I kind of didn't mind, but it suddenly occurred to me that something was different. This was more of a massage than a fucking. A massage of my insides. It was deeply soothing, and quite pleasurable. It had calmed my mind, allowing me to focus. It removed my frantic urge to cum and allowed me to. More

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