I look at my master's eyes, his arms, his chest, even with his clothes on, his torso looks so sexy, I see in detail how his veined and strong arm holds my leash, his girl who agrees with his role as master, she just looks at me without saying anything while kissing him, almost as if saying "This is what you can never have Patrick" and I know, unfortunately the type of guys I like are guys I can never have, straight guys... clearly they will never be my boyfriends nor someone to go to the movies or walk hand in hand with, but life taught me another way to please them, life taught me that men like them need faggy friends like me at their feet, but with faggy i don't talk about the traditional respectable gay man I mean one like me who enjoy feling less of a man than them, an ever-present accessory that highlights their masculinity, something you can even strut about it, like "look at my expensive watch" oh yeah "look at my faggy slave, mine cooks italian food and yours, do you even have one ? ha! and you call yourself a man?", this is what I chose and I am happy with it, this skin of a man who chooses to serve another, is the skin with which I feel comfortable.
Matthew takes off his shoes, tugs on my strap and makes me inhale his pleasant aroma of an Italian man, the smell of his masculine feet is so strong and intense, that although he smells of expensive perfumes, it is impossible not to transfer the sweat from his gym sneakers to his sneakers for social use, the aroma is there, always strong, always present and I love it, I also love the fact that his girl doesn't mind this at all, having a boyfriend with a strong feet smell, who also puts his feet in the face of pathetics like me, who makes them wipe their sweat, wash every inch of their strong man feet with my gay tongue.
I've always said that by looking at details on camera you can guess how someone's feet smell, I think looking at Santoro's socks it's a bit obvious his smell.
Using his strength, he positions me on the stool, turns me around and places his heel, still in socks, in my open mouth, using it as a stopper, it's salty, very salty, but I love it, I'm a personal washer for delicious men's socks like him.
Santoro's girl doesn't make noise, it's almost as if she knows that her only role here is to please her boyfriend, that for the first time in her life, the cameras don't want to sexualize her and want her boyfriend, who is like a God Greek who deserves to be adored by all.
Santoro's sweaty socks over my face, the wet fabric soaking all his royal macho sweat onto my delicate sissy face. Santoro takes off his shirt revealing his voluptuous and worked torso. while at the same time he takes off his socks and inserts them using all his toes deep into my mouth, the pressure made by his toes causes the sweat from the wet socks to begin to squeeze inside of my mouth as if it were a squeezed lemon, I swallow all the man juice, all the macho sweat, it is strong and bitter, just like Santoro.
Length: 4.27 GiB
Duration: 50mn 11s 114ms
Video: AVC at 12.0 Mbps, Aspect: 1920 x 1080 (1.778) at 29.970 fps
Audio: AAC at 192 Kbps, Infos: 2 channels, 48.0 KHz
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