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Nifty - Gay - Adult Youth - Tournament - Tournament 4

 
Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2010 19:15:22 -0500 (EST)
From: Jorge Alvarez <ckjhs1@aim.com>
Subject: tournament-4

It was the same feeling he had when he fucked a woman for
the first time. He knew he had the boy. Right here in the
plane. He knew that what he was holding in his hand was
now his, that Miguel had given it up to him. Fuck yea.

He also knew that if he played his cards right, he would likely
get more from the boy. He would love to be able to treat him like
a woman. Possess him. To underscore this point, Miguel opened his
thighs even more, affording better access to the man. At the
same time, his lips parted and his head tilted backwards while
his face expressed a mix of tension, surprise and deep pleasure.
Mo took in the face of the boy getting fucked, but then he looked
at the shape of his thighs, tightly molded by the sweats. He
thanked soccer for giving boys' bodies such luscious curves.
Meanwhile his hand was bringing the boy mercilessly to the point
of no return. He pictured the boy playing, his socks pulled up
below his knees, his golden thighs disappearing under the velvety
blue shorts which, during some of his moves, briefly molded his
boyhood, for all to see if they wanted to see. Mo was sure that
some were seeing. And then the boy would turn and his compact, toned,
soccer ass would show, below his narrow waist. Two melons separated
by the central seam of the shorts, and his toned hamstrings would
captivate those who were thinking, just thinking, of parting these
luscious melons.

That was a little too much for Mo, and as the boy unconsciously
licked his upper lip, he slid his hand inside the sweats and over
the shorts. This was one layer less for him to work through. He
enjoyed immensely the touch of the shorts, as he enjoyed watching
them hug the sagging boy's waist in the terminal. He could feel
everyone of the boys' treasures through them. He could tell that
he wasnt cut. Sensing that this was the right time, he slowed his
masturbating down. He cupped he young balls and rolled them one over
the other, and as the boy opened his eyes, he looked sraight into his
dark gaze, reading lust as well as submission. These shorts must have
been designed by a pedophile, he thought, eyeing the boy's crotch.

"Julie, look at this, he thought, look, bitch. Don't tell me you would
not fuck him."

And he knew her well enough to be sure she would. It was now time
to finish him, he thought. He would have loved to suck him, to
tongue him inside his foreskin, make him go crazy with lust; he
would have loved to swallow his cream, but he also knew that this
was not the place. The boy could have woken up his mother, or other
passengers, and brought unwanted atention to Mo. He grabbed his
thick and long penis again, and started jacking him slowly at first,
while looking in his eyes, watching him bite his lips again, move
his head side to side, and finally put his small hands over his face
while the man picked up speed. Mo wanted to pull the boy's legs back
and fuck him, nail him to the seat, fuck him up his pretty ass to the
hilt. Instead he kept rythmically bringing him to the edge, and when
the boy raised and spread his legs, he knew this was it. He forcefully
removed the boys hands from his face, placated him back to his seat by
putting his hand over his mouth, so he be silent, looked in his pretty
eyes, and kept pumping his dick till he felt the young body quake
and shake, the penis twitch repeatedly and shoot jet after jet of warm
cum into the blue soccer shorts. As he felt the cum reach his fingers,
he leaned over and whispered in the boy's ear:

"Fuck you, hot little fucker. Fuck you."
 
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Nifty - Gay - Adult Youth - Tournament - Tournament 4