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I prefer a guy to be in shape, either muscly or athletic, but toned in some way, in a way I'm not, sadly. I'm not a stickler for looks - I wouldn't be getting any fun if everyone was, that's for sure - I get aroused by guys being attracted to me and have had some of the best sexual experiences of life with fellow out of shape guys. But in my fantasies it's always the greying, slim, toned athlete or the brusque muscly mature guy who gets to grips with me in the throes of passion.After a day or so I got in contact with a man my age: ✓ number 1 right there, who lives fairly local: ✓2, a keen cyclist:✓3 I do love me a bit of aging lycra lout cock,gay with his own place:✓4,free at weekends, particularly this Saturday (today):✓5,And after swapping pics, he's slim, fit, good looking with a beautiful long cock:✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓I cannot believe my luck! I might just buy a lottery ticket today too.He seem pretty pleased at what I sent him, and mobile numbers have been swapped, a few torrid. When I was naked, I pounded on my chest and bleated out a plaintive cry; "Oh, God. My wife has cheated on me. I need revenge and retribution in some way. Maybe I'll try to fuck her better than her lover just did. Maybe I'll just make her life miserable, just as she's made mine ... oh, wait. Hi John, are you having fun with my wife? I hope she was a good lay?"Stacy spread her legs, pointed at her pussy, and said, "Come here, husband. You're late. We couldn't wait, so we started without you. I've been horny all day, and I had an itch that still needs scratching. Come fuck me."Stacy grabbed hold of my partially inflated cock, sucked me down, and worked me up to a 'ten.' As she looked up into my eyes with my cock deep in her throat, I caught the edge of a worried look. I was getting as much of a jolt of sexual overdrive from watching John's cum leak out of her pussy, as what she was doing to me to try to get me hard.In any case, when I was ready, I made love to my wife. After I'd.
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But chemistry was always there. I was only twelve years old and when ever I approached him I had this weird but exciting feeling, it was always in my mind since I figured out what the word boyfriend really meant. But as it should be, nothing really happened. Until one day when I was thirteen and he was fourteen, playing a modern video game he had won as a gift, in his marvelous bedroom – his mother always had a lot more money than mine – in the second floor of his house, we started betting games. We played lying on huge pillows and I had already won four matches, making him angry, mainly because I was mocking him every time I won. Sometimes he really had a bad time trying to figure things related to common relationships or what others should be expecting of him, like he was from another planet, not talking about predicting others next movements&hellip, And that was strictly the case. Then after a moment listening to our mothers laughing downstairs he looked seriously at me and said:.

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