Climbing Machu Picchu

With a groan, Alex did as commanded. The light next to the nightstand went off. They were in near darkness and would have been in total darkness if the curtains on the window at the front of the room met all the way.

For some silly reason, Alex felt more comfortable, somehow protected, in the darkness. It wasn’t because he had been sucked off and was going to be fucked by a seventy-year-old man. Bob’s body was fine. And that dick! Alex shuddered at the thought of it inside him. But, somehow, in the dark . . .

“Oh, shit, Oh fuck!” Bob was on his knees behind him, spreading his butt cheeks, rimming his asshole with his tongue, sticking it inside him.

And then the gigantic bulb of that monster cock was at his entrance, pressing in and out, testing him. And then it was entering him, relentlessly, as he writhed under the assault, thick and deep. Alex was gripping gobs of the chenille bedspread over his head with his fists and crying out. “Oh fuck, oh fuckkk! Go slow. Oh, shittt! Yes, Yesss. Fuck me!”

His eyes saw the folded sock, and he grabbed for it and stuffed it in his mouth, clamping down on it with his teeth, as Bob started to ride him hard and deep.