Chapter 8
Zyl moved just enough to let Carl turn to face the wall. With both hands pressing against the surface a bit below shoulder height, Carl pushed his t back toward Zyl. Taking his prick in one hand, Zyl rubbed it along the crease of Carl’s ass, down between his upper thighs and back up past the opening.
“We need lube of some kind or I’ll be tearing you up,” Zyl said, his voice near a growl with tension. “What have you got?”
“On the table, the ter tub. It’s the only thing I can think of.”
Zyl gave a sharp laugh. “That’s crazy, it’ll work.” He stretched to reach the plastic container, dipped a finger into the half-melted margarine, and spread it into Carl’s ass. A second fingerful slicked onto his d**k completed the preparations.
This time he did not pause, didn’t even hesitate.
