Takeaway

It's been a while since I've last saw him, possibly a year, or even more. "When was the last time I touched you?" he panted while biting my neck and leaving me with a hickey and sixteen year old thoughts. When we'd met I immediately wanted him to fuck me. He was a bartender; I was drunk, therefore it wasn't too much of an unrealistic thing to carry out.
Yesterday it was different. He looked less like a stud yet more like a man, and despite the fact his hypnotizing six pack was no longer there, I still wanted him to make me gag.
I stared at his cock and wondered whether it would still feel thick and fulfilling. First I took it in my mouth, just to make sure, and after moistening it with saliva I easily inserted it into me, waiting for his familiar moans. He knew that I can hardly move when he fills me that accurately. I knew that I want to have one more taste of him before he comes, so I had to let myself out and let him purge in my throat.