"Open to me. Open to daddy."
And I spread my legs for him. Before he pushed me back gently onto the thick carpet on the moss covering the little sun-spackled glen, he had me kneel before him and take his beautiful, huge cock into my mouth, where I worked it up to over ten inches of hardness to the sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the jogger emitting little sighs and moans of pleasure.
It had been that big, beautiful cock that had melted my defenses and inhibitions and that opened me to him. I had been jogging the wooded river trail three days a week for several months, drawn there by its beauty and isolation and ever seeking to lose that last pound and bring pure definition to that last muscle. I was usually all alone out on the trail in the early afternoon. But in the previous week my schedule had coincided with that of another jogger, someone who also attended the same gym I did. We had never spoken to each other, but he had always had a ready smile for me, and I always took pleasure in seeing him work out. His body was the one that I sought. He was nearly two decades older than me, probably pushing 40, and was graying at the temples already. But he was handsome and had a body to die for.
I have no idea how we wound up on the same jogging trail, but suddenly one day, there he was. We'd pass each other going and coming from the two ends of the trail, and he'd give me that wondrous smile, which I would return with a smile of my own and a wave of my hand.
And I spread my legs for him. Before he pushed me back gently onto the thick carpet on the moss covering the little sun-spackled glen, he had me kneel before him and take his beautiful, huge cock into my mouth, where I worked it up to over ten inches of hardness to the sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the jogger emitting little sighs and moans of pleasure.
It had been that big, beautiful cock that had melted my defenses and inhibitions and that opened me to him. I had been jogging the wooded river trail three days a week for several months, drawn there by its beauty and isolation and ever seeking to lose that last pound and bring pure definition to that last muscle. I was usually all alone out on the trail in the early afternoon. But in the previous week my schedule had coincided with that of another jogger, someone who also attended the same gym I did. We had never spoken to each other, but he had always had a ready smile for me, and I always took pleasure in seeing him work out. His body was the one that I sought. He was nearly two decades older than me, probably pushing 40, and was graying at the temples already. But he was handsome and had a body to die for.
I have no idea how we wound up on the same jogging trail, but suddenly one day, there he was. We'd pass each other going and coming from the two ends of the trail, and he'd give me that wondrous smile, which I would return with a smile of my own and a wave of my hand.