Masonic Studs - Chapter 1 - The Conversation
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Apprentice Basinger sat expectactantly, wondering with strenuous anticipation what Grandmaster Cub would ask him. Entrance into the Masonic Order wasn’t guaranteed, and Basinger knew that it would require more than just a sunny grin and a charming personality. Basinger had always shoveled himself to be the best, wanting to be seen as capable and reliable notably by his old mentors. He knew the Masons suggested him a opportunity to prove himself and be accepted into a fatter fraternity of men much like himself. Of course, like anything else, he did his best to get ready for the contest and come with a strong, certain presentation. But once he spotted Grandmaster Wolf, his fortitude was shaken. The tall, spectacular old stud stood a solid sole taller than the youthfull initiate. He had a stern yet not unwelcoming appearance, reinforced by the great milky suit he wore. He was practically like an archangel, delivering a message of warning and caution. Basinger sensed he should tread lightly, not wanting to let down his interviewer, but deep down, he found himself dispersed btw he looked at him. The questions started ordinary at first. Information about college and sports and activities fell out of Basinger’s throat like they were pre-recorded deep in his lungs, set to auto-response from a lifetime of regurgitating the facts and details of what made him stand out amongst his peers. But what affected Basinger strange, setting him off his routine, was when Grandmaster Cub began to ask him about his sexuality. The old stud didn’t come out directly and ask him if he was gay, but he hinted at the idea by begging if he’d ever been attracted to men. Basinger sensed like this was a trap, one he had to avoid at all costs in order to get what he wanted. He denied any such feelings, knowing total well that he was in that very moment attempting to suppress his enlivenment to the questioner. Grandmaster Cub was no fool, however. He knew that Basinger was hiding something. He could witness the insignificant ways in which Basinger would steal glances at his body, witnessing the space inbetween his thighs, even parting his lips ever so hardly as if in thought about what that spot concealed. Cub knew he had to put Basinger to the test. He told him to eliminate his clothes, leaving just his sheer, milky lingerie on. Basinger was confused and averse at first, but Wolf’s words were delivered with such authority, Basinger was obliged to comply. And of course, Basinger was unexpectedly blessed to do so. Cub could witness that Basinger was sporting a pretty substantial member underneath his sheer underwear. The skinny milky fabric suspended delicately over an amazing size of pecker sprouting upward. Apprentice Basinger didn’t know what to do, knowing that any objection could put his pose in the order in jeopardy. So he went along with Grandmaster Wolf’s instructions, answering his questions and sitting still in patience. When Grandmaster Cub tied the youthfull man’s mitts behind his back, Basinger knew the conversation was taking a direction he had not prepped for. He’d heard rumors of the crazy various rituals and ceremonies the Masons performed, but he didn’t think they were still in practice. He had imagined a number of archaic formalities would have been lost to modernization, keeping the organization more aligned with occupational pursuits and tradecraft. But as Basinger’s assumptions began to shatter, he spotted a dark spot show up on the cloth adorning his cock. It was a small, humid spurt forming against the milky material of the underwear. Precum. Basinger was leaking precum onto his shorts, vibed and sexually aroused by the personal way Grandmaster Cub tied him to the chair, keeping him in place. Basinger was confused and alarmed, but no more so than when Grandmaster Cub positioned the tip of his long, powerful finger down on the spot, catching the liquid on his flesh and delicately pulling it away in a silky, skinny string. Apprentice Basinger didn’t know if Cub would cast him out for that, but then, to his conclude shock, Basinger observed as Grandmaster Cub took the tip of his wetted finger and positioned it in his mouth. The guy trembled, not knowing what the old stud was capable of, but finding himself unquestionably desperate to find out...
Apprentice Basinger sat expectactantly, wondering with strenuous anticipation what Grandmaster Cub would ask him. Entrance into the Masonic Order wasn’t guaranteed, and Basinger knew that it would require more than just a sunny grin and a charming personality. Basinger had always shoveled himself to be the best, wanting to be seen as capable and reliable notably by his old mentors. He knew the Masons suggested him a opportunity to prove himself and be accepted into a fatter fraternity of men much like himself. Of course, like anything else, he did his best to get ready for the contest and come with a strong, certain presentation. But once he spotted Grandmaster Wolf, his fortitude was shaken. The tall, spectacular old stud stood a solid sole taller than the youthfull initiate. He had a stern yet not unwelcoming appearance, reinforced by the great milky suit he wore. He was practically like an archangel, delivering a message of warning and caution. Basinger sensed he should tread lightly, not wanting to let down his interviewer, but deep down, he found himself dispersed btw he looked at him. The questions started ordinary at first. Information about college and sports and activities fell out of Basinger’s throat like they were pre-recorded deep in his lungs, set to auto-response from a lifetime of regurgitating the facts and details of what made him stand out amongst his peers. But what affected Basinger strange, setting him off his routine, was when Grandmaster Cub began to ask him about his sexuality. The old stud didn’t come out directly and ask him if he was gay, but he hinted at the idea by begging if he’d ever been attracted to men. Basinger sensed like this was a trap, one he had to avoid at all costs in order to get what he wanted. He denied any such feelings, knowing total well that he was in that very moment attempting to suppress his enlivenment to the questioner. Grandmaster Cub was no fool, however. He knew that Basinger was hiding something. He could witness the insignificant ways in which Basinger would steal glances at his body, witnessing the space inbetween his thighs, even parting his lips ever so hardly as if in thought about what that spot concealed. Cub knew he had to put Basinger to the test. He told him to eliminate his clothes, leaving just his sheer, milky lingerie on. Basinger was confused and averse at first, but Wolf’s words were delivered with such authority, Basinger was obliged to comply. And of course, Basinger was unexpectedly blessed to do so. Cub could witness that Basinger was sporting a pretty substantial member underneath his sheer underwear. The skinny milky fabric suspended delicately over an amazing size of pecker sprouting upward. Apprentice Basinger didn’t know what to do, knowing that any objection could put his pose in the order in jeopardy. So he went along with Grandmaster Wolf’s instructions, answering his questions and sitting still in patience. When Grandmaster Cub tied the youthfull man’s mitts behind his back, Basinger knew the conversation was taking a direction he had not prepped for. He’d heard rumors of the crazy various rituals and ceremonies the Masons performed, but he didn’t think they were still in practice. He had imagined a number of archaic formalities would have been lost to modernization, keeping the organization more aligned with occupational pursuits and tradecraft. But as Basinger’s assumptions began to shatter, he spotted a dark spot show up on the cloth adorning his cock. It was a small, humid spurt forming against the milky material of the underwear. Precum. Basinger was leaking precum onto his shorts, vibed and sexually aroused by the personal way Grandmaster Cub tied him to the chair, keeping him in place. Basinger was confused and alarmed, but no more so than when Grandmaster Cub positioned the tip of his long, powerful finger down on the spot, catching the liquid on his flesh and delicately pulling it away in a silky, skinny string. Apprentice Basinger didn’t know if Cub would cast him out for that, but then, to his conclude shock, Basinger observed as Grandmaster Cub took the tip of his wetted finger and positioned it in his mouth. The guy trembled, not knowing what the old stud was capable of, but finding himself unquestionably desperate to find out...
Added: 2021-11-18 • Views: 46 • Duration: 17:28
