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Added: February 7, 2020 |
Category: Bi & Gay
Every so often, the Man Deities smile down upon us MenOver30.com and deliver us a notion of the male form so perfect, it takes away our breath. Now was one of those rare days and Scott Tanner is one of these men. 31-year-old Scotts 183-pounds are dispersed with accuracy on his framework that was 511. Starting from the top of those organic sandy blonde locks, across the mask of a Golden Boy that has grown into an encounter of unparalled handsomeness, over a good, well-cared for physique which features, in all its thick, thick eight-inch glory, a ideal slab of man flesh that places the bar by which all would-be perfect penises aspire to be: thick, long, perennially hard and exude endless endurance and allure. It has to fight that Scott owns, as ideal as that penis is; to state he is a whole package is a travesty of a understatement perfection is much similar to it. Sprawled back on the bed like a hero awaiting the spoils the success, Scott sheds his top and immediately starts rubbing that tent of guarantee extending out the crotch of his trousers. As he unbuttons the fly, then as it begins journey to come out and play, the penis beneath reveals to be too large for the shorts underneath, its absolute length and girth forcing the tender flesh beneath to glance through the leg with. With a tug of the waistband, that rock-hard cock and ball sack step toward the ceiling just as all eight thick inches throb in the silver ring that is . Just like a obelisk that permeates the horizon, a thing of awe and need for all to view, Scotts cock, with this flaring head beneath that exact thick, perfectly right shaft, seems like the sexual toy of your dreams brought to life and attached to a person destined to star in your dreams forever.Our eyes traveling down the temptations of pale brownish fur on his chest to the glistening metal ring at the bottom of the shaft. The parade across the area seems to be a mix call to worship, as well, Since he slaps in his hand as, of going into battle, the trumpets. If he turns around and stands upon the bed, beneath the sprawl of ink on his lower spine establishes a pair of curved, white glutes that offer a vista worth the cost of entry alone. Lying on the bed, sitting with his legs spread wide at a seat, hunkered down on the ground, Scott functions that beef having a growing fury before lifting the mattress, decreasing back and pushing a large burden as his body trembles and shakes in an earthquake of undeniable pleasure. As to who enjoyed it , him or people. . .that remains to be seen. |