MPI-104 Pier Buddies
Pier Buddies
Male Photo Illustrated
MPI-104
Anonymous
$2.95
FOREWORD
Fletch Ramsey tried to move away quickly, from the advancing men. His hard, naked ass scraped across the rough boards of the floor and his hands grew dirty and wet from the amount of beer that covered the wood beneath him.
The men were smiling cruelly, two of them already stripped down for action, their hard, throbbing cocks gleaming in front of their wiry bodies. The leader was holding his belt in one hand, the wide, ugly black leather dangling down to the floor.
Lee Caryle cracked the whip hard against the side of the wall, the harsh, compelling sound roared in Fletch’s ears, accompanied by the big man’s fierce, hard laughter.
“You’re gonna turn chicken for us, punk,” he hissed coldly. “By the time we get through reaming you, they’ll be able to drive a truck through your asshole!”
Fletch tried to lift himself up with both hands and Lee whirled the belt around his head, bringing it down hard on the young man’s shoulders. The pain tore through him as the others leaped on him.
He fought desperately but there was no way to fend off all the hard, tough hands that were pulling him toward the pool table. He felt himself lifted up onto the green matting, and his arms and legs were held wide apart.
He screamed in pain as he felt a powerful, muscular hand driving between his buttocks. “You’re gonna love this, baby. Fist-fucking is my specialty,” Lee laughed.
As the huge hand began to penetrate his taut asshole, Fletch screamed in agony, unable to escape the invading fist at all.
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