Double Trouble

He had already finished off one of the other bottles. I took the bottle, keeping my eyes at the level of his navel, although they kept moving down to his cock and balls and causing little shivers to go up my spine.

I took several swigs, and so did he.

But then he took the bottle from me and put it back on the coffee table.

He turned and sat on the sofa and ran an arm under me and lifted me up and pulled me over to his lap, facing him. I turned my eyes to one of the paintings on the wall.

Here we go, I said to myself. Remember not to hold your breath. Breathe easily, don’t tense your channel, be loose, very loose. Eyes on the paintings. It’s the body. You’re being taken by that magnificent body. That monstrous cock. Not the face.

But then, rather than setting me down on his cock, he pushed my head toward the carpet in front of the sofa. I felt his thighs go over mine on each side as my shoulders and neck hit the carpet. My thighs were trapped between his and the edge of the sofa. My legs were spread in the air. His feet were on my shoulders at the arm pits, holding my shoulders to the floor.