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SWEET EBONY STALLION

SWEET EBONY STALLION

Sitting in a Wimpy's I was bitching to my cousin (a Bearish Good-Ol'-Boy) about not being able to find a decent Steak & Kidney meal anywhere in London. Out of a corner emerged a huge chubby bear who, towering over us, proceeded to assure us «...indeed there is a shortage but there are many good restaurants not far from here who would be pleased to assuage your craving...» and with that he and his svelte jockish partner introduced themselves and sat down at our table while we finished our burgers. The conversation soon turned to «other» cravings and BigBear was quick to fill us in on the «delights» of Gay London. My cousin (a raging size-queen) decided he wanted to explore a bar famous for its humongously-endowed clientele and so excused himself and headed out. BigBear was quick to suggest dinner at their place the next night. Although I told my cousin he was also invited he demurred and so I went solo to the East End apartment of BigBear and JockBoy. The dinner was superb only, after a few doubles, to be outshone by «dessert» served up by JockBoy who seemed to have an endless supply of «ManCream Delight». After a quick shower we headed out to BigBear's Private Club where anonymous sex in jockstraps or less was the norm. After shedding my clothes I was admitted to the barely-illuminated Inner Sanctum — a huge warehouse floor scattered with mattresses and 45-gallon drums stabilized with a fill of sand. As I passed by one of the drums, a hand slithered down my abs and right into the pouch of my JOCK, past my semi-erect cock, and gripped my balls so hard I jumped. At the same time another arm drew me in lips on lips with a round ebony face punctuated by two sparkling eyes. The kiss was deep and sensuous and tasted wonderful. Within seconds my by then hungry mouth was swallowing his magnificent raging cock with a sweet foreskin and the most beautiful huge plumhead I've ever had the pleasure to worship. Three gourmand loads and a considerable amount of other pleasuring later he suddenly sprang to the floor and hoisted me, with one powerful arm between my legs, onto the drum. By the time he finished my balls had been milked dry, my nipples were sore, and I was breathlessly exhausted. With anonymity the watchword of The Club, I was never to see him again, but to this day, decades later, just the THOUGHT of that encounter starts an unstoppable pleasure cycle which still leaves me breathless and I still miss that SWEET EBONY STALLION!









 
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