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The Coffee Table

Posted by: Author: Age: 39 Posted on: 0 comments
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It must have been that coffee table


The long low narrow cool marble coffee table in the living room lived in front of the couch. A few feet away lived the TV.

I was three.

The coffee table had four inch-square metal legs. I would kneel on the floor to eat cereal or whatever off the table.

I don't remember the moment I learned to fold my arms oner the cool marble top of the table, lift ass and hunch dick against the hard flat surface of the leg for a quick trip to eye-fluttering etc. heaven, but that coffee table was my favorite piece of furniture.

As I got a little older, I enjoyed humping up on the sink poles, the sapling maple in the yard, the dining room table, etc, either sitting on the floor and pushing up, or hanging and holding on tight while the spasms flared. I had learned to do 'it' in private for the most part by then.

I could come four or five times in a row, I swear it would only take a few minutes, and then I would have the most satisfied buzz in my crotch for a while as I played or watched tv, or or fell asleep if it was bedtime.

I went through times when I would want to do it a lot, but for long times as I grew older I would kind of forget about it.

I began to think about boys' naked rears and legs. Different boys in my second, third fourth fifth grades were really cute. By then I of course knew this was 'not right'

Sixth grade brought a new school, interesting classes, and mandatory naked nude hot showers with a randomly selected cohort of about 25 fellow boys, three times a week. COULD NOT help but masturbate a lot after a long hiatus, this time like I'd heard about. The grasp and stroke to paradise.



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