Avery
“Fuck…” he moans. It’s his first word. It won’t be his last.
I reach over and place my hand on his knee. “You played well today,” I say, tickling the wiry hair on his thigh beneath my fingertips. I slowly slide my hand beneath the hem of his silky soccer shorts. I can feel the warmth of his cock pulsing under his briefs. I gently, and only momentarily, allow the tips of my finger to brush against it. He smiles and places a hand on top of mine, keeping his other on the steering whee...
