AGR-174 Arctic Stud
Arctic Stud
Adam’s Gay Readers
AGR-174
Roland Graeme
$3.95
Excerpt
As Robert obeyed his friend’s instructions, he pressed his cock forward, rubbing it lewdly back and forth between David’s bare buttocks, finally inserting his prickhead down between David’s husky, hairy thighs and dry-humping him from behind while he worked on David’s tits and David masturbated himself into an absolute frenzy of self-induced lust.
They were just approaching the crisis when the loudspeaker in the men’s room crackled to life, announcing that their flight to Halifax was ready to board.
“Don’t sweat it,” David gasped, heroically stroking his awesome prickshaft from base to tip. “I’m just about there! Oh, God, yes—I’m coming, man! I’m coming! Pinch those fucking tits of mine, buddy, bruise the motherfuckers! Ah! I’m there! Look at that shit shoot out! All over the fucking place! Christ, what a load!”
He wasn’t exaggerating! Still working on David’s tits, Robert looked over his shoulder and saw the other man’s come blast against the wall of the toilet stall, above the porcelain toilet itself, like so much thick white fluid shot from a hose! David came so hard, so copiously, in fact, that by the time he had finished ejaculating, the tiled wall looked as though somebody had hurled a bottle of milk against it, shattering the bottle and making the milk and cream drip sluggishly down the wall.
“We’d better get a move on,” David laughed breathlessly. Leaving the mess behind for some poor airport employee to clean up, the two men quickly stuffed their satisfied dicks back inside their pants, zipped up, and hurried out of the men’s room. They made it to the boarding gate just in time to catch their flight, giggling like a couple of schoolboys over what they’d just done together in the john.
They grabbed two adjacent seats, and, under the pretense of helping Robert to tighten his seat belt, David pressed his hand against Robert’s upper thigh, between his legs, allowing his fingers to brush provocatively over Robert’s still-rigid and palpitating prick.
“I’m glad I met you,” David whispered, as the plane took off. “I think we’ve already begun to hit it off—so to speak!”
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