SB-114 Billy Banjo
Billy Banjo
Spartacus Books
SB-114
Richard Held
$2.25
Excerpt
And now, here they were, Tait kneeling before the mirror, his cock not yet come to life, his attention dispersed from the central area by sight of the big, bulky-muscled black, stripped down to his startlingly white briefs, so intense and distracting against the rich chocolate color of his broad shouldered, deep chested, lean hipped, rock thighed body.
Tait’s eyes were locked on the intriguing prominence at his crotch, bursting as though he had stuffed an oversized squash in there. If it was all real, he had to have a foot of stud meat growing out of that lean belly!
Slowly, keeping his eyes on his guest every moment of the time, he slid his hands into his own crotch, fumbling the quick-responding elasticity of his flopping cock, cupping and squeezing his big, shifting, churning balls, working himself up, his breathing growing increasingly labored, husking in his throat as he got hornier with each lazy stroke of loving, familiar fingers along the expanding, stretching, thickening shaft of his big dick. His foreskin strained under the growth of his hard-on, stretching taut against the swollen knob, becoming translucent, nearly transparent as the hot rosy red of inflamed cockhead seemed to glow through, then inevitably, as always, lost the battle, peeled back, snapped possessively close around the upper shaft, allowing freedom for the loose, slithery skin to slip and slide with the stroking manipulations of Tait’s rubbing, stroking, jerking hand.
The black stud thrust his head forward, refusing to move closer, watching from the marvelous vantage point he had sought out, able to see the actual performance and its reflective counterpart in the mirror, eyes darting from one scene to the other, repeatedly, restlessly, nervously.
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