CockSuckerProd Nasty lunch - home delivery

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It was a Friday lunchtime, a well-deserved lunch break. The active guy, a binding 38-year-old, tattooed, bald executive in a local club, had posted his advertisement in no unsure terms: 'Looking for a modest deep-throater for a swift oral at home between noon and two. I'll be waiting for you sitting down, prepared to get my wood out.' The match was immediate. The message arrived: 'I'll be there in Ten minutes. Call me Cocksucker.' The active fellow smiled, revved off his computer, pulled down the blinds in his home office - he was working from home that day. He pulled on a pair of baggy shorts, nothing underneath, and sat in his office chair, gams scarcely apart, the full salute already evident underneath the light fabric. He waited, lollipop half hard at the thought. The doorbell rang right on time. He'd left the door unlocked. It opened, and Sucker entered without a word: a modest boy in his thirties, eyes downcast but excited. He closed behind him, walked hetero to the desk and, without hesitation, dropped to his knees between the gams of the active man, who stretched his hips a tiny wider and hoisted his ass-cheeks scarcely to slip his cutoffs down to mid-thigh. His lollipop sprang out, already stiff and thick, the glans engorged and shiny with a clear drop. He rested his palms on the armrests of the chair, relaxed, prepared to get pumped. Now that's what you call a well-optimized lunch break!