1. Deryk (2) - If Kilts Are Your Thing.......


    Date: 9/1/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Ass to mouth, Domination/submission, Extreme, Gay, Hardcore, Monster, Violence, Author: Bulge Voyeur, Rating: 25, Source: sexstories.com

    help wondering if it was true - you know - what they say…….. He waited on the landing for me to open my door and invite him in but once inside, by the light of the moon from the window, we finally embraced with a true passion of longing. At last, we kissed, long and lustfully, probing with our tongues and tasting the forbidden fruits of brotherly love. His lips were full and moist, slightly salty to the taste; the stubble of his shadow-beard felt slightly rugged and I inhaled the deep, masculinity of his body as we remained locked in a remorseless grip. We surfaced for air but standing in the moonlight, we were overtaken again by our lust and we began frantically pulling off each others clothes. He unbuckled his sporran and it dropped to the floor as I pulled his sweater off, revealing the same “X-Men” tee-shirt he had worn the last time we met – “Wolverine” it read. My shirt was off next, then our boots and socks, before we fell into another embrace, kissing and hugging, breathing and panting. He sank his lips into my neck and I gasped in ecstasy, as his stubble lightly scratched at my sensitive bare skin and he began licking and biting my ear, his warm breath sending tingles up and down my spine. He dropped to his knees before me, kissing the white, hairless skin of my stomach and pressing his face into my crotch. Gently, he unbuttoned my jeans and lowered them to the floor; and then his face buried itself in my groin. My organ was bursting from my Cin2 briefs by this ...
    point, oozing pre-cum juices into the soft white fabric, which he eagerly sucked and tasted, gently biting at my cock and balls through my briefs and driving me wild. As he stood up, I stepped out of my jeans and raised his arms to pull off his tee-shirt, revealing his well developed chest, peppered with soft hairs, in the centre of which hung on a leather necklace, a striking bronze medallion in the shape of a Celtic Talisman. It glinted in the moonlight and when he saw me looking at it, he smiled knowingly and pressed it against my chest; it felt surprisingly cold, strange but somehow fascinating. We returned to our embrace, kissing and hugging; my hands now following the contours of his hairless back, his spine and then at last, his bum, still covered by his kilt. Through the heavy woollen material, I massaged the cheeks of his bottom, feeling their plump round shape and clutching at the pleats of the back of his kilt. I pushed him backwards across the floor, until he fell onto the bed. But sensing what I wanted to do, he immediately rolled over onto his front, his body now lying prone before me, clad only in his Skye Tartan kilt. I climbed onto the bed between his bare legs. Seeking to discover but also wishing to prolong the act of discovery, I ran my hands up the back of his hairy legs, slowly under his kilt, higher and higher inside the secret sanctuary until I felt his hairless buttocks. I could resist no longer; I slid back down the bed and buried my head under his kilt, ...
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