Masonic Studs - Apprentice Serg Shepard - Chapter 2 - The Calling
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It’s been a while now since my first-ever encounter. It was with Master Figata and opened a entire fresh chapter of my life. He instructed me, in a single, mind-blowing afternoon, the meaning of absolute pleasure, while at the same time giving me a clear understanding of the path I need to pursue. However, the tryst has left me in some kind of individual quandary. What the Master did to me was beautiful, and intense, and I’ve been craving more of it ever since. I have been as patient as possible. I have knuckled down in classes and attempted my harshest to be the best student here. I’ve also refrained fully from pleasing myself—it sounds dumb, but part of me senses that if I colon into my urge to spend every last second of my private time jerking myself into oblivion, I’ll be jinxing future opportunities or somehow lessening the influence of whatever’s destined to happen next. When I received notification of my calling, I figured that the time may have eventually come. I got myself into fairly a state as I ambled via the elaborate to the designated office. defeat with a combination of dread and excitement, I completed up feeling so impatient that I unbuckled the top button of my tee-shirt just to breathe. I attempted to shovel the truss node back up in a way that didn’t make it glance like the button was undone, but I knew I wasn’t making the right impression and that bothered me. I was astonished that it wasn’t Master Figata in the office; I’d assumed that he’d be exclusively in charge of my formal development. I was instead greeted by Master Weston, a man that I don't know fairly as well. My only interaction with him happened about three weeks ago when he was seated next to me in the formal hall. Looking back, I guess he did seem a lil more nosey about me than I most likely should have expected... He was considerably less steamy with me this time. As I sat down in the office he was reading some sort of official file, which I assume was crammed with information about me. I could sense the beads of impatient sweat prickling on my forehead. I wondered if it was too late to attempt to do my top button back up again. He asked if I still believed that I wasn’t attracted to men, and I confirmed that this was indeed the case. My tryst with Master Figata was, of course, something which could easily be defined as a man-to-man sexual encounter. It could also be argued to be a one-off; an lifted learning practice which doesn’t necessarily define me as gay. To be honest, I was utterly confused. I'd deliberately shoved any thoughts about carnal delectation to the very back of my mind, refusing to entertain them for dread of them devouring me. He transferred me an ornate glass vessel and told me to swallow the substance inside. It was like very unspoiled water; there was no color, taste, or smell. Then, he told me to undress... I instantaneously perceived a rush of adrenaline, wondering if Master Weston was about to do the same thing to me that Master Figata had done. Perhaps he was even planning to take things a lil further. I may be unexperienced for my age, but I’ve seen several naughty films on the internet, so I know what happens when 2 studs have sex, and ever since Master Figata put that screw stick into my ass, I’ve got fairly a mighty sense of what it might sense like to have something else shoved up there. I was rigid by the time I’d taken my pants off. I knew that my penis was tenting like super-naughty in my boxers, but I didn’t attempt to hide it because Master Figata instructed me not to be embarrassed by that sort of thing. Master Weston certainly seemed to be fairly amazed by what was happening down there. He kept glancing with an amused glance on his face. And, of course, as I liquidated my shirt, my brain instantly embarked flooding with dirty thoughts about him. He looked so wondrous in his suit and tie, he smelt amazing, and the more I concentrated on that, I became desperate to sense the bristles of his lustrous facial cumshot hair kneading my skin. I was so hard that I had to shovel my dick back into my shorts. Master Weston moved toward me and embarked to touch me all over my body with just his fingertips. Every touch caused me to shiver; he was slightly making contact, and yet I was aroused in a way I couldn’t even comprehend. My dick began to throb like super-naughty and before I knew what was happening, he’d dropped to his knees and was very slowly rolling my outfits down. He instructed me to climb onto the desk. I instinctively knew that he wished me to present myself to him, like prize-winning livestock at some sort of auction. It should have perceived utterly humiliating, but I wished to sate him in any way that I could, so I extended my body, bent my back like a bitch and thrust my bootie toward him. At that moment, I heard him eliminate his jacket and spin his tee-shirt sleeves up. Seconds later, I perceived his beautiful salt-and-pepper facial cumshot hair kittling against my bootie cheeks as he shoved his tongue deep into my hole. I heard the rustle of him eliminating his tee-shirt and tie, and then perceived him shovel what I assumed to be a finger into me. I glanced back at him and he smiled a big, broad, beautiful sneer which made me sense surprisingly special. At that moment, I would have ambled to the end of the world for him. I heard the snap of his belt and the yell of his zipper, followed by a hollow thud as his pants strike the ground. Moments later, he pulled me down from the desk and made me bony over it. I knew what was coming; I’d dreamed of the moment since Master Figata had used the screw stick on me. The irony was that I had no idea how thick Master Weston’s dick actually was. I hadn’t massaged it, let alone even seen it. I’d noticed fairly a large swelling in his pants as he was kneading me before, but I didn’t have a clue what I needed to get well-prepped myself for. He didn’t waste any time. Seconds after he’d repositioned me on the brim of the desk, I perceived him shovel himself in. There are so few words to explain what happened to my body at that moment. I embarked to quiver uncontrollably. It was brutal, intrusive, agonizing. But at the same time, it perceived amazing. It was like something deep inwards me had awakened. I wondered at what stage you officially lose your virginity. Is it when the dick first-ever comes in you, or when the dude commences pumping it in and out? Or is it when he shoots his load? It certainly didn’t take very lengthy until he was shoving in and out of me, which I guess is what you would call fucking. And, in no time at all, what he was doing had stopped damaging and embarked feeling truly good… to the extent that I all of a sudden became desperate for him to go firmer and faster. And, just like that, he did! It was frantically beautiful. No matter where you drew the line, I knew that I was losing my virginity right then. My body was gyrating and dancing and wiggling and gasping. The firmer he went, the more I wished his big, humid cock. I wished him to use me, to manhandle me, to showcase me what my body was for. Then he extracted and shoved me onto the table, smooching me passionately, his facial cumshot hair scratching against my chin and his tongue shoving deep into my mouth. He pulled me onto my back and dragged me to the brim of the table so that he could thrust in and out while looking down at me. It was addictive. He was smiling, nearly smugly, like the cat that got the mouse. I guess he knew it was my first-ever time, and that he was my Master. I grasped his thick pop puffies and tweaked them real hard and he embarked to grunt and groan. Then I perceived a powerful gush of gravy bursting out of his giant beef whistle and flooding my insides. If I hadn’t lost my virginity until that point, I had now. And it was as beautiful and spectacular as I’d imagined it would be. We were one and I was his, forever.
It’s been a while now since my first-ever encounter. It was with Master Figata and opened a entire fresh chapter of my life. He instructed me, in a single, mind-blowing afternoon, the meaning of absolute pleasure, while at the same time giving me a clear understanding of the path I need to pursue. However, the tryst has left me in some kind of individual quandary. What the Master did to me was beautiful, and intense, and I’ve been craving more of it ever since. I have been as patient as possible. I have knuckled down in classes and attempted my harshest to be the best student here. I’ve also refrained fully from pleasing myself—it sounds dumb, but part of me senses that if I colon into my urge to spend every last second of my private time jerking myself into oblivion, I’ll be jinxing future opportunities or somehow lessening the influence of whatever’s destined to happen next. When I received notification of my calling, I figured that the time may have eventually come. I got myself into fairly a state as I ambled via the elaborate to the designated office. defeat with a combination of dread and excitement, I completed up feeling so impatient that I unbuckled the top button of my tee-shirt just to breathe. I attempted to shovel the truss node back up in a way that didn’t make it glance like the button was undone, but I knew I wasn’t making the right impression and that bothered me. I was astonished that it wasn’t Master Figata in the office; I’d assumed that he’d be exclusively in charge of my formal development. I was instead greeted by Master Weston, a man that I don't know fairly as well. My only interaction with him happened about three weeks ago when he was seated next to me in the formal hall. Looking back, I guess he did seem a lil more nosey about me than I most likely should have expected... He was considerably less steamy with me this time. As I sat down in the office he was reading some sort of official file, which I assume was crammed with information about me. I could sense the beads of impatient sweat prickling on my forehead. I wondered if it was too late to attempt to do my top button back up again. He asked if I still believed that I wasn’t attracted to men, and I confirmed that this was indeed the case. My tryst with Master Figata was, of course, something which could easily be defined as a man-to-man sexual encounter. It could also be argued to be a one-off; an lifted learning practice which doesn’t necessarily define me as gay. To be honest, I was utterly confused. I'd deliberately shoved any thoughts about carnal delectation to the very back of my mind, refusing to entertain them for dread of them devouring me. He transferred me an ornate glass vessel and told me to swallow the substance inside. It was like very unspoiled water; there was no color, taste, or smell. Then, he told me to undress... I instantaneously perceived a rush of adrenaline, wondering if Master Weston was about to do the same thing to me that Master Figata had done. Perhaps he was even planning to take things a lil further. I may be unexperienced for my age, but I’ve seen several naughty films on the internet, so I know what happens when 2 studs have sex, and ever since Master Figata put that screw stick into my ass, I’ve got fairly a mighty sense of what it might sense like to have something else shoved up there. I was rigid by the time I’d taken my pants off. I knew that my penis was tenting like super-naughty in my boxers, but I didn’t attempt to hide it because Master Figata instructed me not to be embarrassed by that sort of thing. Master Weston certainly seemed to be fairly amazed by what was happening down there. He kept glancing with an amused glance on his face. And, of course, as I liquidated my shirt, my brain instantly embarked flooding with dirty thoughts about him. He looked so wondrous in his suit and tie, he smelt amazing, and the more I concentrated on that, I became desperate to sense the bristles of his lustrous facial cumshot hair kneading my skin. I was so hard that I had to shovel my dick back into my shorts. Master Weston moved toward me and embarked to touch me all over my body with just his fingertips. Every touch caused me to shiver; he was slightly making contact, and yet I was aroused in a way I couldn’t even comprehend. My dick began to throb like super-naughty and before I knew what was happening, he’d dropped to his knees and was very slowly rolling my outfits down. He instructed me to climb onto the desk. I instinctively knew that he wished me to present myself to him, like prize-winning livestock at some sort of auction. It should have perceived utterly humiliating, but I wished to sate him in any way that I could, so I extended my body, bent my back like a bitch and thrust my bootie toward him. At that moment, I heard him eliminate his jacket and spin his tee-shirt sleeves up. Seconds later, I perceived his beautiful salt-and-pepper facial cumshot hair kittling against my bootie cheeks as he shoved his tongue deep into my hole. I heard the rustle of him eliminating his tee-shirt and tie, and then perceived him shovel what I assumed to be a finger into me. I glanced back at him and he smiled a big, broad, beautiful sneer which made me sense surprisingly special. At that moment, I would have ambled to the end of the world for him. I heard the snap of his belt and the yell of his zipper, followed by a hollow thud as his pants strike the ground. Moments later, he pulled me down from the desk and made me bony over it. I knew what was coming; I’d dreamed of the moment since Master Figata had used the screw stick on me. The irony was that I had no idea how thick Master Weston’s dick actually was. I hadn’t massaged it, let alone even seen it. I’d noticed fairly a large swelling in his pants as he was kneading me before, but I didn’t have a clue what I needed to get well-prepped myself for. He didn’t waste any time. Seconds after he’d repositioned me on the brim of the desk, I perceived him shovel himself in. There are so few words to explain what happened to my body at that moment. I embarked to quiver uncontrollably. It was brutal, intrusive, agonizing. But at the same time, it perceived amazing. It was like something deep inwards me had awakened. I wondered at what stage you officially lose your virginity. Is it when the dick first-ever comes in you, or when the dude commences pumping it in and out? Or is it when he shoots his load? It certainly didn’t take very lengthy until he was shoving in and out of me, which I guess is what you would call fucking. And, in no time at all, what he was doing had stopped damaging and embarked feeling truly good… to the extent that I all of a sudden became desperate for him to go firmer and faster. And, just like that, he did! It was frantically beautiful. No matter where you drew the line, I knew that I was losing my virginity right then. My body was gyrating and dancing and wiggling and gasping. The firmer he went, the more I wished his big, humid cock. I wished him to use me, to manhandle me, to showcase me what my body was for. Then he extracted and shoved me onto the table, smooching me passionately, his facial cumshot hair scratching against my chin and his tongue shoving deep into my mouth. He pulled me onto my back and dragged me to the brim of the table so that he could thrust in and out while looking down at me. It was addictive. He was smiling, nearly smugly, like the cat that got the mouse. I guess he knew it was my first-ever time, and that he was my Master. I grasped his thick pop puffies and tweaked them real hard and he embarked to grunt and groan. Then I perceived a powerful gush of gravy bursting out of his giant beef whistle and flooding my insides. If I hadn’t lost my virginity until that point, I had now. And it was as beautiful and spectacular as I’d imagined it would be. We were one and I was his, forever.
Added: 2025-04-03 • Views: 0 • Duration: 26:04
Categories: Anal, Bareback, Bears, Big Dick, Blowjob, Hardcore, Kissing, Masturbation, Office, Old Man, Rough, Studs, Toys • Studio: Masonic Boys • Models: Serg Shepard, Kristopher Weston
