He shook a little and knelt
down, taking the penis in his hand again. This time there were no frightening
images, no memories, just the warm flesh in his hand. The skin was impossibly
soft. It was what he imagined white ladies hands were like.
“Ah,” Bart moaned, but not for
Will. Nicholas had risen and was standing behind the man. He must be doing
something to his backside. Continuing to stroke, he peeked around Bart’s hip.
Nicholas had just poured oil on
Bart’s ass and was tracing his fingers along the crack between his cheeks.
“You focus on that,” Nicholas
urged with a smirk. “Have you tried tasting it yet?”
Will licked his lips. He had no
idea what a man tasted like. He had no idea what a woman tasted like either but
was fairly certain he wasn’t interested in finding out. However, this sausage
in his hand tempted him.
Opening his mouth, he popped
the head in, just as he would a sausage. His chest expanded, growing with his
inhalation, but his heart seemed constricted within it, as though it grew even
more, faster than his chest. Holding the penis, he slid down, wanting more.