My dad used to call them eye candy, mom called them gold diggers. Mr. Logan was a damn good-looking man, about 6’2, 200 pounds, with deep chest, br...ad shoulders, narrow waist, solid looking butt, and long athletic legs. To use a much-used cliché, his face was chiseled from fine marble. We would see him jogging almost every day, and if the day was hot, he would be covered with sweat. Even though I was not yet sixteen years old, Mr. Logan caused a lot of fluttery stomachs when I saw him like. We were both making the other ones' tingles multiply and expand, athousand fold.At times he was slow and sensuous, making me feel every millimetre of hiscocks surface as it moved inside me, rearranging my channel to his liking,sometimes moving his hips a little differently to change up the angle thatthat massive fucking cock was churning me up at. Other times his passionwould build like the greatest orchestral symphony ever written and he'dbegin to speed up, and he'd begin to make his thrusts. More

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