Boston Boys Club. Johnny Diaz
midnight, Joey’s at my door. I let him in, excited that I am about to get off but more curious about what this guy is like in person.
At my door is this handsome guy, taller than me by an inch or so, and sandy hair covered in snowflakes that really bring out the brown in his eyes. I like brown eyes, especially on a cute face. I shake his cold hands, invite him in, and escort him to my room in the back of the house.
I take his corduroy jacket and scarf and toss them on my desk chair.
We hardly talk. We immediately start making out and let our bodies do the talking. They have a lot to say.
Something about this guy makes me feel relaxed and good. Good thing it’s only for a little while. I don’t want the dude to get attached or anything, even if he is adorable.
We roll around in bed, wrestling one another. I strip off his shirt and see his lean muscular skin. I pull off his jeans and yank off his blue Hanes underwear and gaze at his erect seven-inch cock saluting me back. Cut, just the way I like them. We’re naked now, our bodies grinding, making our own type of indoor heat. I mount him and press my hands on top of his, tease him with my cock in between his legs. Damn, that feels so hot. I poke Oscar all around underneath his balls. I press my lips to meet his.
I then flip his long, soft, hairy legs behind his head. His eyes are completely locked on me, looking almost surprised yet thrilled, exhilarated. I lean in and softly whisper in his ear, “Nice to meet you, YoungHotBosBoy.”
And the Italian Stallion rides again.
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