Michael Broderick hottlead art

THAT SUMMER

Added 2024-07-14 21:31:08 +0000 UTC

After that first time on the bus, Mr. Dryden and I both knew we had started something. We conspired to meet again and, as luck would have it, my parents had decided I was responsible enough to be home by myself for a month, and went to Europe on a second honeymoon.

The moment they pulled out of the driveway and turned the corner, I hopped on my bike and met up with Mr. Dryden at a nearby abandoned garage. He kissed me long and deep as my knees buckled under the weight of my lust. Tossing my bike in the back of his truck, we drove through the night to a cheap little motel 3 towns over. We were both so excited that we actually had to pull over multiple times on the way. That's when he told me to call him Buck.

I had barely gotten the door to the room closed when he was all over me. His tongue in my mouth, his hands under my shirt and in my jeans. In fact, it wasn't more than a few minutes before he had me completely naked and on my back. He buried himself so deep inside me, I'd swear I could feel his cock throbbing in the back of my throat.

For the next 4 days the DO NOT DISTURB sign never left the outside knob, and I was in heaven. Neither of us got dressed except to throw on a towel to grab takeout when it was our turn to get the door. And, outside of eating, sleeping, and bathroom breaks, we did nothing but fuck. On the dresser, in the shower, on the carpet, and especially in front of the mirror on the closet door. Buck looked so hot inside me, the way his muscles moved, the expressions on his face as he filled me to capacity. His body was so gorgeous, like something you'd expect to find in a museum in Europe. Luckily, I got to touch the art.

We didn't want it to end. Over and over, I just couldn't stay off his gorgeous fuck-pole. But my summer job at the local paper started soon, and we eventually had to part ways. But not for long.

CHEAP MOTEL

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