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His cheeks were tanned like the desert, smooth, rounded dunes. My cock swelled at the sight. I unholstered my rod, squatted in behind the butt, slapped cheek with my dick.
‘Yes!’ Mack bleated. ‘Fuck my ass! Please, fuck my ass!’
‘I’m calling the shots here, pardner,’ I retorted, putting him in his place. Then putting my dick in its place – in between his hot taut buttocks.
He moaned, and I grunted, frotted. I pumped his crack, smacked his cheeks around, spurring the fleshy hills on to shivering, the man to whimpering. My cock pulsed pure hot pleasure, riding up and down the smooth, sensitive skin of his butt cleavage. My balls boiled.
I pulled back, out. ‘Got any gun oil?’
This pack horse had it all. He fumbled a tube of slickener out of a pocket of his jeans and handed it back to me, sneaking a quick peek at my quirt.
I whacked his ass for his impudence. Then greased my iron, his petulant pucker. When we were well and truly slippery, I plugged his wanton need, shoving my shining cap up against his starfish.
He bucked. I pulled back, struck again, and again, poking at his pucker ’til he was groaning with want. Then I hit hard, busting his ring and ramming his chute.
‘Yes!’ he cried, my dick sinking into his anus like a plough into moistened earth.
His man-sleeve was tight, hot, like the rest of his body. My cock throbbed inside him. He squeezed it even tighter with his ass walls.
I gripped his hips and slammed back and forth in his chute, fucking his butt, riding roughshod. He clawed up his own hanging erection and tugged on it like it was the bridle of a runaway bronc. My thighs cracked off his buns, like pistol shots, my cock churning his anus like some homesteaders churn butter.
I reared back and let out a ‘Yaaahoooooo!’ waving my right arm around. Bringing my right hand crashing down on the man’s ass, ecstasy bursting out of my balls and rocketing up my butt-buried shaft, spraying against Mack’s bowels.
He jerked jism out of his own dick, shuddering, bucking, mewling.