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“Do you come here often” I admitted I don’t usually, glancing at her through my peripherals, hoping she would move ina way that would reveal her nipples. My cock was hardening at the thought. I crossed my legs to try and hide it, and she laughed. I felt like I was set up. “I ’m sure I would have noticed you if you were a regular” she said, that smile ever present. She stretched then, her blouse folding in just the right places for her pink nipple to become visible. “Noticed anything yourself?” she asked. I said yes, I had, and thought it was a little chilly for such a thin shirt, shifting to allow my erection to elongate and not be crushed in my pants legs. It bulged for the eight inches of lentgh, obvious to the world. She reached a hand over and stroked my cock through my jeans gently. “You don’t seem to mind at all” she laughed. I felt the heat rush to my face then, dick leaping and fighting to break free from the restraints of my jeans. She held firm, timing her squeezes between. ”“I’d be there for you to screw whenever you want?”“And anyone else I wanted you to go under. I’ll take you clothes shopping tomorrow. Throw that in the deal.”“I have clothes. Back at the bridge.”“I’ll buy you what I want you to wear. Right now, if you’re done with your supper, I want to fuck you again.”And he did. Sandy lay on the bed, on the clean sheets, on his back, face turned to the side, concentrating on the pattern of the light on the wall reflecting from the neon lights from outside the bedroom window, and rocking his pelvis on the lubed fist moving inside him, until Drinker rolled over on top of him, replaced the fist with his cock, and fucked him.Ted Collier, a Hollywood choreographer, taking a short “secret pleasure” vacation in the French Valley at the Rhodes Ranch, a very private, tucked-away male brothel with boys on offer, sensed motion in the octagonal summer house down at the edge of the woods near a pond behind the main lodge of the ranch as he was retrieving.
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