‘Hey Miranda, feel like giving me a few minutes to pour my guts out?’ ‘Not on this carpet, I just had it steamed.’ Everyone laughed at the stu...id joke and the tension drained from the room. Miranda shut off the classic rock and put on one of the quieter Joy Division albums. Isabel removed a corkscrew from her pocket and popped the cork, ‘Custom dictates that the wine breathes for the better part of an hour.’ ‘Fuck that,’ Sam snorted, ‘Booze me.’ Isabel shook her head with a smile, but proceeded. Embracing his ass completely, I buried my face in him, tongue probing and thrusting. I could feel his pulsing again, a prelude to orgasm. He held my head to him with both of his hands. His moans became gasps, his hole was throbbing, I could tell his cock was spurting by the spasms of his sphincter. As he pumped he sang one long groan: musical, enticing. When he quieted, I looked up and saw his rippled abs covered in cum, his chest hair wet with it. What a feast! Sucking some, spreading some on. More

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