"Meet us at the Jack In the Box off Telegraph," Walt texted me. "We can sit there, maybe eat a bit, and I can see if you two hit it off."
Walt was a guy that lived up the street from me in Pico Rivera, as we met online and kicked off late night trysts in his suite at his mother's house.
"You wearing underwear," he asked.
"I'm not," I messaged in response as my dick was throbbing as I drove down Imperial Highway.
Walt, a 53 year old psychiatric home manager during the day, and Mexican bear slut in the night hours, was an abrasive bottom as he was all masculine until a dick entered his poop ring. Problem with me was that I was too big, and he'd instead choose to lick me out from my balls to my ass, then slurp up every ounce of cum I'd shoot while brushing his stubbled chin against my thighs, balls, or any other exposed skin down there.
"I want you to fuck me hard," Walt would say each time we got nasty, but he could never take the dick, and this would be the prime reason we brought Jeff, this tall, Samoan bear, to the fray.
"Jeff brother, this is Carlton," Walt said when I approached the two of them and sat down.
We shook as Jeff, whom Walt claimed was 61, looked 41, as he barely had any wrinkles in his brown face, and had the whitest smile.
"What's happening bro," he said to me as we shook his hands, and made eye contact to where I noticed his bedroom eyes off the bat.
We'd sit down and talked for a bit, as food wasn't the essence anymore despite where we were at the moment.
"Bro, Dub tells me you're from Virginia and that you're Navy," Jeff asked as he sat beside Walt. "I was Army."
