“Well, I don’t really have one I guess.” I answered. Riley smiled. “Everybody has a story,” she insisted. I shook my head. “Not like yours...” “That’s the best part. Everybody’s story is different. How boring would the world be if everybody’s story was the same?” she reached over to squeeze my hand, “so, let’s hear it.” “Well, I was born here, grew up here, went to school here, and got a job working construction here. That's pretty much it. Except I went to California once with my parents. And I. "What do you want?" he asked "Fuck me," I moaned. I stood up, dropping my pants and turning around to grasp either side of the sink. "You are sure you have enough room for my big dick?" he asked. His hands slid down, cupped my cheeks, as he moved up against me. I could feel my hard dick throbbing, wanting him inside me, packing me to the hilt. I could feel his fingers exploring my crack. I heard him spit and felt it sliding down my crack as his finger pushed against my asshole, probing, moving. More

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