There is a saying about still waters running deep; he was like the saying. Giovanni never revealed much about himself. You never knew what he was thin...ing or what his preferences or dislikes were. He could be anything from an assassin to a priest, and you’d never know. Giovanni was one of the few Italian men I knew with blue eyes and I wondered where they came from, a Germanic or Celtic invader, a Roman blue-eyed slave, a Viking raider. So much of Giovanni was below the surface. He was the. I gazed into his eyes as my nails traced a lazy path up and down his hard cock. ‘Ready to cum?’ I asked as his cock throbbed under my fingers. ‘Yes,’ he groaned. Slowly I lined the head of my cock up with the entrance to his virgin asshole and pressed. I felt his last bit of resistance give way as I pushed further. A moan escaped his lips as the head popped in. ‘I think you like this, you nasty, dirty little whore,’ I said, working all six inches into his tight asshole. His cock was. More

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