bro-job
worth half-off and a dime
+18, no minors depicted or allowed, all age restrictions apply.
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He had laughed shyly and looked away as I knelt in front of him - him and his delectable cock. “Please stand up straight,” I admonished him, as I pulled out the measuring tape. “I really do need to measure you, you don’t want my sister to do it don’t you?” Not that being naked was required for measuring, but the innocent guy just had to play right into my hand.
It was my sister’s fault. They were going to marry the next weekend, but after a crash diet - which was at the behest of my sister - all his pants fitted him badly, so my sister asked me, the tailor in the family, for some emergency fitting and altering. Not to mention a family discount, but that was a given for my sister. Eugh, I could almost hear her voice right now screeching in my ear about cuts and 30% off.
Not that it was any chore doing this, and not just because the guy had nary a thread covering his delectable bum. He’s one of the good guys, and I was looking forward to having future nephews and nieces between him and my sister to coo and cuddle to, because they both were just that good-looking of people, although in my sister’s case I knew she had to work extra-hard at it. Not fillers or anything major, no, she was just naturally inclined to be zaftig, which would have been okay if her ideal self was not a statuesque model-thin Amazon goddess. Sometimes her dieting stressed even me out with all her obsessions and size-measuring and calorie-counting, and apparently it also did a number on her fiancé here (needlessly, if I might say so).
I was writing the measurements in my trusty black notebook when I noted he was half-erect. Must had been the fan, trailing the lazy murmur of Louisiana air into the room, all that warm and heady flow. The mushroom head was glistening in the light - was he precumming? I bit my lips. It had been a long time since I had a cock that nice between my lips. “You know you could knock twenty percent more off my wages if you do one thing.” 50% be damned.
He smiled, and my black heart did a flip-turn. “What, bro?”
“Let me suck your cock.”
There was a couch in the room where we were, all alone in my balmy shop. I laid my head on the armrest as he leaned over, his cock thrusting deep into my drooling mouth. I was happy - as my sister must’ve been - to report he was a grower, and as his thick warm inches was bathed in my slimy spit his cock grew to its full proportions. Fully erect, he was a magnificent eight-incher, with beer-can dimensions. Lucky I had a talented mouth, if I may say so myself. I laved his balls, slathering love on his taint. He bent down and gave me a deep kiss, drinking his cock scent from my mouth. Later he groaned deeply as the vibrations of his orgasm started deep in the root of his cock, sputtering his pent-up load into my waiting mouth.
“This stays between us.” He murmured, sitting back on his haunches, his face still ruddy from his orgasm, the echoes of his moans still travelling in the space of the waiting room. Just a perfect picture of masculine repose in its orgasm-satiated state. “Just a bro-job between bros. Along with the 50% cut.”
“Of course.” His semen was still percolating in my mouth. I made a show of swallowing the white hot cum, which made his eyes glaze over and his cock twitch in response. “Just a bro-job.”
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