Masonic Guys - Apprentice Serg Shepard - Chapter 3 - The Anointing
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I find it highly difficult to look at sir Weston sans blushing. I watch him ambling along the halls and when our eyes meet, I invariably find myself thinking about the epic things that happened when we were last alone together. I don’t think I ever could have predicted that my life would end up making such a dramatic trip away from the path I’d imagined it taking. I’d always perceived highly strongly that I’d lodge down with a cute youthful girl, and that we’d get married and have children and live a handy but quite simple life. If someone had told me that I’d end up with a thing for older, suited dudes and an nearly obsessive wish to be subservient toward them, I’d have laughed. And yet, here I am... For some reason, sir Weston ticks all my boxes. Grey-haired, well-built and exceptionally fit for his age, and a level of strength and authority so strenuous that I find myself fantasizing about the extremes I’d be well-prepped to go to simply to sate him. I was summoned to one of the ceremonial bedrooms to be anointed the other day and was aroused to discover that sir Weston was the one who’d lead the ritual. The thought of being alone again with him in a guest room crammed me with great excitement; I couldn’t sleep devising what might happen. I arrived right on time. I was handed a simple milky bathrobe by one of the servants and led into an field where I washed myself carefully. The bathrobe was designed to slide over the head like a flimsy cotton kaftan. I was taught to stay nude underneath, which perceived pretty unusual because none of the cloth decorated the sides of my body and there was barely anything to protect my modesty. sir Weston’s voice taught me to inject the main space. I ambled in to find him sitting on a bench, clothed in a beautifully-fitted, unspoiled milky suit with an whole wall of white, floor-to-ceiling curtains billowing behind him like some kind of film set. The sight was as awe-inspiring as it was unnervingly surreal. For the briefest moment, I wondered if I was somehow standing at the pearly gates, about to atone for my earthly sins. sir Weston looked up at me and smiled, pridefully I think. I perceived a million butterflies swinging in my stomach. He stood and ambled up to me, informing me that I was due to be anointed and that I was required to do everything asked of me. The statement, of course, was music to my ears, and when he removed his suit jacket, letting out his intoxicating scent into the room, my heart embarked pounding. He spinned up his sleeves and gathered up a series of iron containers from the corner of the room. It revved out that they were crammed with molten lubes with unfamiliar, heady aromas. sir Weston dipped a finger into one of them before drawing a line of lube via my forehead. He repeated the act on my ears, my nose, and my mouth. Before long, he’d groped lube into most parts of my body. Each line that he drew made me sense more at one with him, more respected somehow and, bizarrely, more like a man. He shoveled my bathrobe aside, and I was as supreme as naked. I perceived no dishonor that my penis was rock hard and that it bounced and danced with enlargening enlivenment every time sir Weston’s fingertips drifted onto a fresh zone of my body. I realized that strings of pre-ejaculate were pouring uncontrollably from my penis, suspending from the apex like sensitized chains of silver. There was no hiding that my body was in a state of extreme arousal. I wanted sir Weston in a way which I couldn’t fully comprehend. He knelt in front of me and caught a lengthy load of pre-ejaculate with his tongue, before taking my penis into his molten mouth. The enjoyment was mind-blowingly pleasurable. I began to tremble; swings of yearning sexual energy spinned up and down my body. At that moment, sir Weston taught me to sit down on the bench, which was fine with me because my knees had embarked to buckle. He squatted down underneath me and brought my sole up onto his thigh, massaging lube into every part of it before delicately fellating my toes. Then, he stood up and smooched me. The smooch was both sultry and respectful, and I longingly dissolved into his soft lips. I was his. He was mine. There was no one else in the world. He began to liquidate his clothes, leisurely undoing his t-shirt to uncover an impressive, bear-like body. The hairs were dark around his abdomen and greyer around the chest. I dropped to my knees to serve him and he shoveled his underwear down to uncover his stiffening member which I began to suck. It tasted wonderful and it reacted to my hungry lips, doubling in size and becoming rock solid. I attempted to get it as deep as I could into my mouth, even down into my throat, struggling the desperate urge to gag. He ordered me onto all 4s and knelt behind me, kneading his facial hair between my bum cheeks, and inspecting my fuckhole with his endowed tongue until I was desperate to sense his fabulous dick inside me. I didn’t need to wait long. He pressed himself against my hole, which immediately opened itself up for him. Moments later, he was in a push-up posture above me, prodding in and out, shagging me like a large stag in heat, plunging his giant dick as far as he could into my guts. He knelt up behind me and I embarked to rail his dick as quick and as rock hard as I could, wringing my bum muscles around his rock hard lollipop while he noisily moaned, groaned, and grunted. He revved me onto my back and I watched as his face took on a look of determination, nearly as tho' his unexpected fresh wish was to immensely ruin my ass. I grabbed hold of his nipples and crooked them as rock hard as I could with my fingertips until he was murmuring like a cat and then roaring like a lion. Moments later, he pulled his dick out of me and shot an immense load all over my stomach. Part of me was disappointed that he hadn’t cum inside me, but before I could dwell on that he shoveled his dick back into me so that his powerful DNA could find its way into my bloodstream. He collapsed, immensely exhausted, onto my body, and we smooched vigorously for what seemed forever, our bods interwoven, united mentally, physically, and now spiritually.
I find it highly difficult to look at sir Weston sans blushing. I watch him ambling along the halls and when our eyes meet, I invariably find myself thinking about the epic things that happened when we were last alone together. I don’t think I ever could have predicted that my life would end up making such a dramatic trip away from the path I’d imagined it taking. I’d always perceived highly strongly that I’d lodge down with a cute youthful girl, and that we’d get married and have children and live a handy but quite simple life. If someone had told me that I’d end up with a thing for older, suited dudes and an nearly obsessive wish to be subservient toward them, I’d have laughed. And yet, here I am... For some reason, sir Weston ticks all my boxes. Grey-haired, well-built and exceptionally fit for his age, and a level of strength and authority so strenuous that I find myself fantasizing about the extremes I’d be well-prepped to go to simply to sate him. I was summoned to one of the ceremonial bedrooms to be anointed the other day and was aroused to discover that sir Weston was the one who’d lead the ritual. The thought of being alone again with him in a guest room crammed me with great excitement; I couldn’t sleep devising what might happen. I arrived right on time. I was handed a simple milky bathrobe by one of the servants and led into an field where I washed myself carefully. The bathrobe was designed to slide over the head like a flimsy cotton kaftan. I was taught to stay nude underneath, which perceived pretty unusual because none of the cloth decorated the sides of my body and there was barely anything to protect my modesty. sir Weston’s voice taught me to inject the main space. I ambled in to find him sitting on a bench, clothed in a beautifully-fitted, unspoiled milky suit with an whole wall of white, floor-to-ceiling curtains billowing behind him like some kind of film set. The sight was as awe-inspiring as it was unnervingly surreal. For the briefest moment, I wondered if I was somehow standing at the pearly gates, about to atone for my earthly sins. sir Weston looked up at me and smiled, pridefully I think. I perceived a million butterflies swinging in my stomach. He stood and ambled up to me, informing me that I was due to be anointed and that I was required to do everything asked of me. The statement, of course, was music to my ears, and when he removed his suit jacket, letting out his intoxicating scent into the room, my heart embarked pounding. He spinned up his sleeves and gathered up a series of iron containers from the corner of the room. It revved out that they were crammed with molten lubes with unfamiliar, heady aromas. sir Weston dipped a finger into one of them before drawing a line of lube via my forehead. He repeated the act on my ears, my nose, and my mouth. Before long, he’d groped lube into most parts of my body. Each line that he drew made me sense more at one with him, more respected somehow and, bizarrely, more like a man. He shoveled my bathrobe aside, and I was as supreme as naked. I perceived no dishonor that my penis was rock hard and that it bounced and danced with enlargening enlivenment every time sir Weston’s fingertips drifted onto a fresh zone of my body. I realized that strings of pre-ejaculate were pouring uncontrollably from my penis, suspending from the apex like sensitized chains of silver. There was no hiding that my body was in a state of extreme arousal. I wanted sir Weston in a way which I couldn’t fully comprehend. He knelt in front of me and caught a lengthy load of pre-ejaculate with his tongue, before taking my penis into his molten mouth. The enjoyment was mind-blowingly pleasurable. I began to tremble; swings of yearning sexual energy spinned up and down my body. At that moment, sir Weston taught me to sit down on the bench, which was fine with me because my knees had embarked to buckle. He squatted down underneath me and brought my sole up onto his thigh, massaging lube into every part of it before delicately fellating my toes. Then, he stood up and smooched me. The smooch was both sultry and respectful, and I longingly dissolved into his soft lips. I was his. He was mine. There was no one else in the world. He began to liquidate his clothes, leisurely undoing his t-shirt to uncover an impressive, bear-like body. The hairs were dark around his abdomen and greyer around the chest. I dropped to my knees to serve him and he shoveled his underwear down to uncover his stiffening member which I began to suck. It tasted wonderful and it reacted to my hungry lips, doubling in size and becoming rock solid. I attempted to get it as deep as I could into my mouth, even down into my throat, struggling the desperate urge to gag. He ordered me onto all 4s and knelt behind me, kneading his facial hair between my bum cheeks, and inspecting my fuckhole with his endowed tongue until I was desperate to sense his fabulous dick inside me. I didn’t need to wait long. He pressed himself against my hole, which immediately opened itself up for him. Moments later, he was in a push-up posture above me, prodding in and out, shagging me like a large stag in heat, plunging his giant dick as far as he could into my guts. He knelt up behind me and I embarked to rail his dick as quick and as rock hard as I could, wringing my bum muscles around his rock hard lollipop while he noisily moaned, groaned, and grunted. He revved me onto my back and I watched as his face took on a look of determination, nearly as tho' his unexpected fresh wish was to immensely ruin my ass. I grabbed hold of his nipples and crooked them as rock hard as I could with my fingertips until he was murmuring like a cat and then roaring like a lion. Moments later, he pulled his dick out of me and shot an immense load all over my stomach. Part of me was disappointed that he hadn’t cum inside me, but before I could dwell on that he shoveled his dick back into me so that his powerful DNA could find its way into my bloodstream. He collapsed, immensely exhausted, onto my body, and we smooched vigorously for what seemed forever, our bods interwoven, united mentally, physically, and now spiritually.
Added: 2025-04-03 • Views: 5 • Duration: 29:08
Categories: Anal, Bareback, Bears, Big Dick, Blowjob, Cumshot, Hardcore, Kissing, Muscles, Old and Young, Old Man, Rough, Twinks • Studio: Masonic Boys • Models: Serg Shepard, Kristopher Weston
