Robert said. Steve groaned, his belly tightening as Carrick sank to his knees before him. Robert was still slowly massaging his cock. The hot water was making his feet and hands tingle; it was as if all the blood was rushing to the surface of his skin. His cheeks burnt and his previously numb toes stung. He stared down at Carrick. Carrick stuck out his tongue and poked it into Steve’s slit. “Oh, God,” Steve groaned. The amount of times he’d watched Carrick on stage, his mouth close to his microphone, and imagined that mic was his cock and Carrick was just about to lick it, and here he was, probing and stretching his slit. “Yeah, he likes that,” Robert said, reaching with his free hand and squeezing Steve’s left nipple, hard. Steve moaned, a new surge of lust racing to his cock. “Let me take him,”
What do You think about The Chase: Brit Boys: On Boys?
