Every time we are near, I have problems to keep my eyes away from him. His lips claim to be kissed. A new promise of pleasure pop up in my mind every time he moves his legs. Once I tried to keep my eyes in his feet, a safe zone I thought. But, then, he started an indecent scratch passing the toes slowly into the other foot. The illusion of his toes wandering around my legs gave me chills. When he walks ahead of me it’s the only time I feel free, because he can’t catch me staring at him as if I could I could lick him any second. It’s mouthwatering to watch the cotton of his shirt stretching over his muscles.. And that’s how I know I still deserve God’s pity, too. He’s not that kind of gentlemen that insists to walk by your side.


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