Secret Santa’s Workout
Devon didn’t have trouble with fifteen repetitions but soon felt weak. “I don’t think I can do another one.”
“Here’s where I’ll assist.”
As he struggled to rise, Erik stood up, held his shoulders and lightened the load, while his crotch brushed Devon’s head. “Good, that’s sixteen.”
With each crunch and hesitation, Secret Santa’s dick burst more erect and plopped on his student’s forehead.
Devon felt stirrings rising in his own cock.
At number twenty, Erik’s staff exploded out of the pouch and lay against his trainee’s mouth.
After the ten second pause on the final rep, Devon’s mouth opened wide to catch his breath. A spurt of white jizz dripped into his mouth. Devon swallowed, and then gagged, but felt a surge in energy and burst into orgasm, creaming his sweatpants. A cluster of white snowflakes fell on him. When his head dropped on the bench, a sensation of exhaustion overcame him. He gasped, inhaled the cold air, and opened his eyes. Erik disappeared, magically just like the previous times.
“Shit! I feel guilty for what just happened. Is this real? How am I going to explain this to Peter? This Secret Santa leaves me with a sexual thirst?
Molly Synthia: http://mollysynthia.com
Naomi Shaw: www.authornaomishaw.com
J S Morbius:
Muffy Wilson: http://muffywilson.blogspot.comLeann Mitchell: http://www.leannmitchell.blogspot.com/