Chapter 9: Tiger Rag
Bart flipped open his packet and slowly rolled the condom over his massive tool. J.T.’s eyes never left the rod only inches from his face. He seemed almost mesmerized. Now, he looked more like an eager puppy than a strutting bantam. He licked his lips, then a slow grin spread across his face—the grin of a man who’s been given a studio full of gorgeous c***s to play with. The kid had figured out one of the perks of this job.
As soon as the condom was in place, J.T.’s head dove forward. Too fast—I stood up, ready to yell “cut.” But J.T. merely brushed his lips across the glistening head, making the c**k jerk upward. Then he raised his fur-covered hands.
The lead groaned at the touch of the gloves. J.T. wriggled his furry fingers, tickling the balls and underside of th
