I recall raising my head off the mattress and whooping like a monkey as the old man took care of my needs. My whole body shook as his fingers gently caressed my ball sac, encouraging it to give up more and more of its seed. He continued to milk my ball sac for several long minutes; and when he had finished, my cock was just as hard-standing as it was before the climax.I mumbled a few words of grateful thanks as Harry loosened my bonds and told me to get some rest. He then left the room.From the sound of it, the storm was getting worse. A sudden clap of thunder made me start as I tried to settle down and recover my strength for the forthcoming fuck-fest. A favorite fantasy then began to drift through my mind as I lay in the dark, listening to the rain beating rhythmically against the bedroom window.* * *In the fantasy, which was based on "The Coral Island" by R. M. Ballantyne, I was Ralph Rover, a teen cabin boy shipwrecked on a South Sea island with two friends: Jack Martin (Age: 23). That was enough, right? She pushed away a little, beginning to tell him to stop, but before she knew it, his soft lips were pressing against hers, and her mind was once more taken away, almost like she was unconscious. He did that to her. His smell, his skin, his touch made her lose focus completely. Before she knew it, she was lying on his bed with him on top of her, the kiss never stopping the white contrast of her dress against his dark blue bed sheets were making it easy for him to find her. He knew he should take it slow, but the way her chest was moving up and down, her breathing heavy and her thighs so exposed, he was quickly losing control. He stood up, his lips peeling away from hers. She looked at him, slightly shocked, her green eyes undressing him. She wanted it, she knew it now, and with that she began to undress him. Off came his shirt, exposing his muscles and abs, and she couldn't help but slide her cold fingers down his chest, over his pants before unbuttoning them..
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