On New Year’s Eve morning Brad was awakened by a nuzzling to the back of his neck. At first he thought it was Greta. “Greta, stop,” he mumbled. But then he felt the cowboy’s erection poke him in the ass.
“Greta don’t have one a these,” Hank whispered in his ear.
He lay there for a moment just drinking in the reality of Hank’s early morning invitation. When he didn’t respond to the tender nibbling, Hank reached around and began to fondle Brad’s c**k and balls. Brad smiled, sighed, and let Hank’s fingers do their magic. After several minutes of enjoying the arousal the actions were bringing about, he turned over to face his molester.
“Want somethin’, pardner?” he asked.
Hank chuckled but said nothing. He merely pulled Brad into a prolonged kiss and pressed his body against him, slowly
