He reminded me of a bookkeeper from a Charles Dickens novel, sitting at his tall desk and scrutinizing the figures, except in this case the figure was...mine.As he looked me over, I sensed admiration mixed with apprehension, a fear of missing something better. I found myself ambivalent as to whether I wanted him to choose me or not. I sensed he felt that he might find someone better. Sure enough, he left thinking that he could always come back, if nothing better materialized.Genghis Khan was. I started to fight back with my tongue, tilting my head to the side to deepen the kiss. My hand on his dick, fastening my pace while with my other hand I've wrapped it around his neck and stroked his hair. He pulled away, pushing me back in the process. He panted softly, when I opened my eyes I saw his face. He was cute as fuck and just as hot, how was that possible? Everything had to come to an end, or maybe not. But we heard someone coming up the stairs, he quickly pulled up his pants and I. More

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