#jackf

Laying back against the thin bar of the umbrella, Jack adjusted the spread to cover more shadow as the sun hit harder, an excuse as he magically extended the shadow projected over them. Philip laid over his legs, clad in a tight speed, two sizes too small for his behind to fit, and too bright for other people's eyes to lay on it. Hearing him read at loud, Jack was comfortably listening at first, before he landed one hard loud smack, squeezing the rear as a redening mark began to flow, "sorry, too many people is beginning to think you are a show for their eye's delight."

Tellement beau. Un M2 Black Paint par le talentueux #JackF (french artist) . . . #passionleica from @lcdpix #leicam2

                                           The scattering sadness, your song                                                   my lonely life that has no whereabouts

"Multiple times. The first time by my father when i was starting. Really stupid decision to use his bedroom. But uh... the most mortifying one would probably be in the middle of the road. I was driving and had a cop stop me, and instead of sanctioning me we hit it off and were fucking within minutes... His partner came to look what was going on and found me deepballs into him, and him bitting my shirt while his cuffs were serving as my reins... very good fuck though. Very good fuck."

There was something ... bloodboiling about seeing the other surrounded by guys. He couldn't blame them, Kellin was ... too gorgeous for his own good. But he could by all means, get mad. The demon in him always taking the worst out of it in all situations where the situation came to that closeness. Standing up from the table he was waiting him with drinks, Jack rushed to his back to press himself and kiss the hickey he had left hours before to expose it. "Hi guys, anything you need of my husband?" He asked, flaunting the ring on his finger while shaking the one around the other's neck. "Because I was waiting for drinks but you are making him stall too much."