feckweed

Sweating, I disguise my discomfort. The leather pinches me again. I shift. Blood begins to fill my shaft creating a tightness. The rubber rings expand as my veins begin to jut out. Holy shot, my sensitivity level is maxing out. Your fingers follow the new roadmap to the base. Your mouth, warm and steamy, gently contacts my almost purple head. You measure my pulse with your tongue. I am so alive.