I moaned as his finger slipped in. “OK?” he asked.My ass had contracted to a hymen-like pinhole since my misadventure in the van with Salvatore an... Jose. It needed stretching before I could take his eight inches. I pulsed my sphincters, pulling his finger farther inside me, and then expelling it. “Let me lubricate it.” I sucked his index finger and licked off the sweet fragrance of my ass, and then coated two of his fingers with saliva. “Both at once,” I said.He slid his moist fingers in. He spread his legs wide to give me a better view of him stroking his cock in that stall when I noticed his foot come under the divider; he was wearing a pair of dark brown, newer Dingo boots. This was the mid 1980’s when country music was not cool, western wear was not fashionable but this fucking turned me on. This guy was a total dude, not some androgynous punk rocker or flitty, swishing hair dresser or any other stereotyped gay person of the times. My cock was rock hard, like blue steel,. More

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