Hit Me Up

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— Ah!

I groaned uncontrollably, pushing my hip against that large limb inside me, which I felt grew more and more.

— More Tyler!... mng... more!

I took my hands to the back of my knees and pulled them to my chest, causing Tyler's big penis to touch the point that made me see stars, I opened my mouth letting out a shrill scream of pleasure.

— Tyler!— I shouted.

I felt that my body could no longer stand the wild thrusts from the blond on my body. I clung to the muscled chest of the boy of my dreams, trying to not lose my head. Slime slipped from my lips, as a groan escaped from my throat, the pleasure rose suddenly through my body causing a shudder to run from the tips of my hair to my feets causing them to bend by scratching the mattress. A beep settled in my ears because of the agonizing pleasure, I panted for more on screams. I could feel my penis jumping and my inside vibrating when the orgasm was near.

— Ah... Ah! Tyler!

My penis dripped pre-semen uncontrollably, and when it was coming to the top... it rang.

My damn alarm clock rang.


Any explanation about my dream? Simple, I describe myself as these characters in the Wattpad stories who have a crush that think will never notice them because they are "normal and invisibles". But there's a difference between those characters and me. They sooner or later end up dating that person who too loves and excites them; and for my part... I will always be alone, I will die alone, it's written in the bible!

— Son, come down to breakfast!— shouts my mother from somewhere in the house, the kitchen maybe.

— I'm coming!— I shout back

I take my backpack and go downstairs for breakfast. A delicious smell invades my nostrils. My father, like every morning, was reading the newspaper while mom was preparing the breakfast.

— Smells good, mom— I take a seat in the dining room. My mother serves me a plate with waffles.

— It's been a little late for you, hurry up for breakfast— my mother says.

— I will arrive, mother— I reply to my mother with my mouth full of food.

— Richard...— my father looks me over the newspaper, that intimidating and defiant look showed everything he didn't say in words— you know perfectly well how you should behave...— I under the look and play with my fork— as the man who you are.

The dry words of my father reach their limit. I drag the chair and make its screech through the kitchen, I get up and go to my mother, who stared at nothing, I kiss her cheek and she just ignores me.

I walk towards the door, I turn to see my parents, mom is still looking at nothing and my father is still with his newspaper. None of them paying attention to me.

— Have a nice day.

I open the door, stay in the corridor, I turn to look for a feeling of an intimidating sight on the back of my neck; my father stared into my eyes. Fulminant, he raised an eyebrow and ... slammed the door, moving away from his reproaches.

I walk on the sidewalk until I reach the street, at that moment my stupidity hits me and I turn around, running to the entrance of my house. I open the door slowly, it squeaks too much. I walked slowly towards the kitchen, invaded by an overwhelming silence, except for the sound of my footsteps that echoed all over the place. My father's gaze followed every movement I made.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 16, 2017 ⏰

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