Masonic Dudes - Apprentice Tyler Chapter 3 - Anointing
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When I entered The Order I thought I knew everything there was to know about, well, everything. I was certain to the point of cockiness. I knew what I wished in life and I knew how to get it. Frankly, I thought The Order was fortunate to have someone like me… Things began to switch from the moment I arrived. Within the ranks of these masculine, mystical men, I felt almost oftentimes off my game. They made me question everything I’d ever assumed. Every time I embarked to think I had a treat on something, they pulled the rug out from under my feet. The old me would have left within days, but something kept me there. Perhaps it was the dream to watch who I might become if I stuck with the program. Perhaps it was the way that my figure tingled furiously after it had been used by one of the Masters. Whatever the reason, I felt myself increasingly, and almost obsessively, wanting to please. I didn’t know what to hope from my anointing. I was informed that the ritual would be overseen by tormentor St. Michael, whom I’d only seen sometimes around the complex. There was something about him which I found immensely compelling. He had this aura of confidence and sophistication which made it unlikely to look at anyone else when he was around. I nervously entered a bright milky bedroom and found him sitting, statuesque, on a chair, in a beautifully-fitted milky suit, t-shirt and tie. The bedroom smelt pure, wealthy in a sanitization that was not chemical. however tormentor St. Michael wore an expensive cologne, there were other more minor aromas in the air, which made me wonder whether the rug and the billowing strings up had been infused with something… else. I couldn’t place what. I was handed a robe to wear made from some kind of light muslin or cheesecloth. It was almost translucent and it did nothing whatsoever to disguise the hard-on which formed the moment I laid eyes on tormentor St. Michael. Through The Order, I had learned not to be ashamed of such things. The teachers are happy for us to build up as much from pleasing them as they build up from being pleasured. He asked if I was ready. I nodded. I had no clue what to expect, but I have learned not to ask questions. He decorated his forearm in steamy lubricant before mildly running his thumb across my forehead, then over my eyes, my lips and then other parts of my body. The wipe of lubricant on my lips made me want to kiss. The delicate knead of his frigs petting different parts of figure made my loins ache, my own maleness stiffen and bounce. I embarked to quake in anticipation, wondering which part of me he’d knead next. My back, my nipples, my stomach... My entire figure was springing into life. Then he ran his oily thumb up and down the shaft of my penis and I expert a rush of enjoyment the enjoys of which I've never known. He removed his jacket. I marveled at the way his tailored cotton t-shirt clung to his fully-developed well-formed body. My staggering dream was to knead him, to smooch him, to accept him… but I knew my place. He sat me on the stool and embarked to shove his frigs into my fuck-hole before wrapping his soft, steamy lips around my dick. He pulled away from the dt and purposefully removed his belt and his gold watch, at the same time shooting me a look which seemed to say, “we’re not almost done yet…” At that moment, he pulled me into him and we embarked to kiss. His smooch was so deep and passionate, it crammed me in ways I slightly understood. I’ve never been smooched like that before. His slippery tongue ventured into my jaws and I throated it in further. I was desperate for him to want me as much as I wished him. I opened up my gams wide—inviting him in. He pulled away and removed his tie, leisurely unzipping his t-shirt to reveal a garment which clung to his torso like a 2nd layer of skin. Then he unbuttoned his pants, unveiling a pair of almost translucent trunks. The outline of his rock-hard dick inwards the light fabric was profound. From the moment I spotted it, I knew I needed to have it inject me. My mind and my figure both knew this—my fuck-hole instantaneously began to twitch. He stood me up and removed my gown, leaving me nude and vulnerable. I instinctively knelt and he encouraged me to get onto all fours. As his antsy tongue slid into my hole, I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d be able to sense his handsome manhood inwards me. With every writhe and flutter, my figure yearned for him more. Unification was worth the wait. I felt his huge, solid rod gliding repeatedly over my fuck-hole and then the acute sensation of it entering me. I won’t lie; it made me wince a little. Light crammed my eyes like a stab of pleasure. Maybe it was my imagination, but it felt as however my figure was bristling in all the places where tormentor St. Michael had anointed me. I felt my fuck-hole spreading and then a explosion of unbelievable enthusiasm surging through my body. Then he shoveled me onto my back. I knew from the upward curve in his dick that this was a position, and what he could do with it was going to be intense. I took a deep breath and, as he entered me, I entered a world of ecstasy. The head of his rod pawed repeatedly across my guts and crammed me with electrification. I wished to pull as much of him into me as I could. We felt like the same animal—two halves making a mind-blowing whole. A rush of profound fun crashed through me and pre-ejaculate embarked to bust defenselessly from the apex of my dick. I could tell by his yells that he was close and moments afterwards I felt him yanking savagely as a torrent of his man gravy exploded into me. His dick remained there for some time afterwards, twitching as he smooched me tenderly. I lay there trying to comprehend what I was experiencing, wondering if anything would ever sense this good again, yet knowing so much more was just around the corner. The Order, after all, always has plans.
When I entered The Order I thought I knew everything there was to know about, well, everything. I was certain to the point of cockiness. I knew what I wished in life and I knew how to get it. Frankly, I thought The Order was fortunate to have someone like me… Things began to switch from the moment I arrived. Within the ranks of these masculine, mystical men, I felt almost oftentimes off my game. They made me question everything I’d ever assumed. Every time I embarked to think I had a treat on something, they pulled the rug out from under my feet. The old me would have left within days, but something kept me there. Perhaps it was the dream to watch who I might become if I stuck with the program. Perhaps it was the way that my figure tingled furiously after it had been used by one of the Masters. Whatever the reason, I felt myself increasingly, and almost obsessively, wanting to please. I didn’t know what to hope from my anointing. I was informed that the ritual would be overseen by tormentor St. Michael, whom I’d only seen sometimes around the complex. There was something about him which I found immensely compelling. He had this aura of confidence and sophistication which made it unlikely to look at anyone else when he was around. I nervously entered a bright milky bedroom and found him sitting, statuesque, on a chair, in a beautifully-fitted milky suit, t-shirt and tie. The bedroom smelt pure, wealthy in a sanitization that was not chemical. however tormentor St. Michael wore an expensive cologne, there were other more minor aromas in the air, which made me wonder whether the rug and the billowing strings up had been infused with something… else. I couldn’t place what. I was handed a robe to wear made from some kind of light muslin or cheesecloth. It was almost translucent and it did nothing whatsoever to disguise the hard-on which formed the moment I laid eyes on tormentor St. Michael. Through The Order, I had learned not to be ashamed of such things. The teachers are happy for us to build up as much from pleasing them as they build up from being pleasured. He asked if I was ready. I nodded. I had no clue what to expect, but I have learned not to ask questions. He decorated his forearm in steamy lubricant before mildly running his thumb across my forehead, then over my eyes, my lips and then other parts of my body. The wipe of lubricant on my lips made me want to kiss. The delicate knead of his frigs petting different parts of figure made my loins ache, my own maleness stiffen and bounce. I embarked to quake in anticipation, wondering which part of me he’d knead next. My back, my nipples, my stomach... My entire figure was springing into life. Then he ran his oily thumb up and down the shaft of my penis and I expert a rush of enjoyment the enjoys of which I've never known. He removed his jacket. I marveled at the way his tailored cotton t-shirt clung to his fully-developed well-formed body. My staggering dream was to knead him, to smooch him, to accept him… but I knew my place. He sat me on the stool and embarked to shove his frigs into my fuck-hole before wrapping his soft, steamy lips around my dick. He pulled away from the dt and purposefully removed his belt and his gold watch, at the same time shooting me a look which seemed to say, “we’re not almost done yet…” At that moment, he pulled me into him and we embarked to kiss. His smooch was so deep and passionate, it crammed me in ways I slightly understood. I’ve never been smooched like that before. His slippery tongue ventured into my jaws and I throated it in further. I was desperate for him to want me as much as I wished him. I opened up my gams wide—inviting him in. He pulled away and removed his tie, leisurely unzipping his t-shirt to reveal a garment which clung to his torso like a 2nd layer of skin. Then he unbuttoned his pants, unveiling a pair of almost translucent trunks. The outline of his rock-hard dick inwards the light fabric was profound. From the moment I spotted it, I knew I needed to have it inject me. My mind and my figure both knew this—my fuck-hole instantaneously began to twitch. He stood me up and removed my gown, leaving me nude and vulnerable. I instinctively knelt and he encouraged me to get onto all fours. As his antsy tongue slid into my hole, I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d be able to sense his handsome manhood inwards me. With every writhe and flutter, my figure yearned for him more. Unification was worth the wait. I felt his huge, solid rod gliding repeatedly over my fuck-hole and then the acute sensation of it entering me. I won’t lie; it made me wince a little. Light crammed my eyes like a stab of pleasure. Maybe it was my imagination, but it felt as however my figure was bristling in all the places where tormentor St. Michael had anointed me. I felt my fuck-hole spreading and then a explosion of unbelievable enthusiasm surging through my body. Then he shoveled me onto my back. I knew from the upward curve in his dick that this was a position, and what he could do with it was going to be intense. I took a deep breath and, as he entered me, I entered a world of ecstasy. The head of his rod pawed repeatedly across my guts and crammed me with electrification. I wished to pull as much of him into me as I could. We felt like the same animal—two halves making a mind-blowing whole. A rush of profound fun crashed through me and pre-ejaculate embarked to bust defenselessly from the apex of my dick. I could tell by his yells that he was close and moments afterwards I felt him yanking savagely as a torrent of his man gravy exploded into me. His dick remained there for some time afterwards, twitching as he smooched me tenderly. I lay there trying to comprehend what I was experiencing, wondering if anything would ever sense this good again, yet knowing so much more was just around the corner. The Order, after all, always has plans.
Added: 2023-01-25 • Views: 21 • Duration: 28:02
