” “You masturbate, right?” I asked. We all shook our heads yes. “So what is the difference if we grab each other’s dong and stroke it. Same ...s our own isn’t it? Having someone else do the rubbing could be exciting don’t you think?” I said. “Actually, that does sound exciting,” said Mike. “In fact, let’s have a wrestling game. We are all down to our underwear. We will draw straws to see who goes first and the person who can get the pants off the other first wins and the loser must stroke him. I wanted allthose men showing me just how much they loved me.The boat of my self-control rocked roughly in the torrent of mypleasure, waves hitting harder and faster as the music escalated. Thesuperstorm of my passion grew with each beat, each thrust and jab.Don?t cum. Fuck. The thought barely registered. How could it? It was soanathemic to my being. You might as well ask me not to breathe, not tothink, not love.I fucked harder, screams of delight echoing out around cock, each wavebouncing me. More

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