How could he stop himself–destructing? The silly Bastardo! Shaking himself, Joe realized he mustn’t greet Peter with ‘Che Cazzo fai?’ (What th... fuck are you doing?) He had slipped back into his native Italian and realized that would never do. Slowly he walked into the office to ask Mark if there was any news about Peter. Nights became days and days grew into weeks until late one Friday as the workshop was falling quiet after a day’s noise, Joe heard a shout from the main doorway. ‘Peter’s. He held his member at the base and lowered it my mouth. That giant nob of a cockhead hung right at my lips. My breathing caused my chest to heave, my fingers tingled, the cement stung my knees, and I couldn’t control myself. I felt the warm piss rush from me, heard the whish, the stink of urine filled my nostrils, and I opened my mouth.I clutch my hair, dragging me onto her cock. The saltiness of it and rank odor of my captor’s sweaty crotch turned my stomach. He shoved his cock deep into my. More

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