There is nothing special about it, just a simple chocolate bar that has been sitting on the heat vent for a few hours. It has softened enough to would...do exactly what I want. Rolling my hips against your groin, I open the wrapper of the chocolate bar. Dipping my finger into the warm soft chocolate, I start to trace on your body with my fingertip. Spreading the chocolate on your lips and chin, on your neck and chest, on your nipples and a straight line down your stomach, and finally spreading a. He called me a good boy. He would always call me a boy. I wasn't, and I’m still not, but his invalidation of my very core identity would always send a shiver through me.He told me to have shower, to clean up as we were going back to his place. He told me he was having friends over and he had a special job for me. Maybe the gist of it was obvious, but the possibilities terrified me, but also excited me. As I washed myself I couldn't help but find my fingers drifting down to my pussy, coming up. More

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