Again he gasped, thrusting backwards onto my hand and again I worked him the both hands, slipping the first two fingers of each hand as far as I could...push them, always widening his cum locker. With the palms of my hands pressed together as if in prayer, or as if holding a c***dhood pistol, I began to finger fuck him, slow and deliberate, always widening the circle, always making him moan. "Christ, it hurts so good!" he gushed, as I began to up the pace a little. "Don't move," I reply,. This is so fucked up.”“We’re always there, Adam. Always.”It took me a few minutes to send over the photos and video and then I just stared at the traffic as I calmed down. When I felt like it was safe, I pulled back onto the road and was soon at my father’s house. There was no white picket fence.No one answered the knocking at the door, and I assumed he was still at Dicks “R” Us, or wherever he worked. The door was locked, so I went around to the back of the house. Automatic sprinklers, flower. More

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