So it had come to this; He was knelt down, torso forwards, with old, worn carpet burning his stocking covered knees. As spit danced in mid-air from the corners of his gagged mouth, it teased his chest, threatening to run down to his cock. He’d asked himself before how decadent one could be whilst wanking off, and finally he had found a level of shame, and arousal that was perfect for the task at hand. Transparent latex gloves clung to his arms like heavy gauntlets, the feeling of heavy rubber intoxicating to him as his left thumb, and forefinger massaged the head of his cock. Looking backwards into a large, and albeit conveniently placed mirror, he glimpsed at his arsehole. It was surrounded by hair, glistening with lube, and twitching with anticipation. Whilst he wanted to remain modest, he couldn’t help but focus on how delicious it looked.
Inhaling deeply his nostrils filled with the dense scent of sweat, intertwined with the distinctive musk of spread thighs. He teased his tight rear with a rubber clad finger, knowing that he would not be satiated until he’d been completely stretched. A conveniently prepared friend lay in wait below his hungry arse, thick, and anatomically perfect, with a significant girth. Slowly he rocked backwards, the smooth head slid into him, and with a muffled groan he took the entire shaft, until he could feel the rubberised balls of his companion tickling at his gooch.