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Moving downstairs like a sneaking knight at the ready, I lowered my arms upon discovering the source of the sound.
Under the Christmas tree, alongside the presents, there were rolling masses of red and white fabric in our living room. Names West. A shout came from downstairs, but it was distorted, muffled. At no point were the onesies, anything but plain clothes.
His breath deepened. His smug smile. Their bookcase, organized by the authors’ last names alphabetically. Dad!” Their voices shouted.
His mind buzzed then dipped. I found his head and arms, but they didn’t lead me to any openings. He didn’t shower. Massive hairy thighs, tight, rounded ass. Johnny wasn’t exactly thrilled about having his ‘baby’ so close to the chaos of a frat party, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t cleaned puked up beer out of his car before.
Both dumb, muscular, blond meatheads who cared about nothing more than playing football and fucking bitches.
Yo bro, for real, you straight-up need a Christmas miracle. What the absolute heck had happened? Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I shifted Trent’s mass in the white around, no exit on the backside.
Fuck he loved college girls.
Currently the pledges were all lined up in the front yard as one of the frat brothers, Grayson, shirtless walked down the line saying words, muffled by the windowpane. Wes watched, through West’s eyes, as Johnny fell into place right next to him, the two bros swaggering across the quad with an unearned cocky confidence that looked like it was engraved into their very being.
As shocking as the change to John had been, Trent and Phineas, or T-Bone and Finn, seemed to have gone through an even more intense change.
On his knees, a sledgehammer between his legs, the head pushed against his hard-on, the model displayed his cum-filled balls and ass crack in the dirtiest way imaginable. Giving up her impressive career, their life together, their future- all for some backwoods, hillbilly Christmas town. Maybe it was my dumb man-brain believing I could scare anything away with my muscles and the bat behind my door.
You demand a cold beer since you’re basically saving the company and his holiday. The air was quickly filled with his natural musk, and only when he caught himself taking a deep breath did he stop.
What was he doing?