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His cock was sliding in my throat and out and I pressed my lips around his shaft. I tasted his pre-cum and he was breathing heavily. As deep as I could I took that beautiful dick in my mouth and pressed it along my throat. I stared at it with amazement and just wanted to deep throat and feel his cockhead pressing at the back of my throat and so I did.
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I opened his zipper and took out his rock-hard circumcised meat. I squeezed his manhood through his pants and he groaned with pleasure. 'I have a boner ever since I entered here'. My hand went down his belly and went further to meet his enormous cock. I just could take another breath and groaned. His hand went under my shirt he adored my soft hairless skin. 'You're such a fine mature twink,' he told me. I felt his muscled arms, his pecs that turned out to be very hairy too. I groaned and told him that I got so aroused. After a while, he started to play with my nipples. We French kissed for a while and I tried to suck the saliva out of his mouth, I adored his juices already. I started to open my mouth and felt his man-tongue entering me. I was a bit shocked but longed for this intimacy. By having said that he gently kissed me on my mouth. I thanked him and he looked into my eyes and told me that I was a beautiful person. When he finished we still were in an intimate position, his arm around me, and his lips close to my face. Once and a while he fondled my shoulders during his prayer. He prayed in a whispering mode, it felt very intimately his breath was touching my ear that aroused me quite a bit. He came closer to me and put an arm around me. After a while, Garry wanted to pray for me. We had dinner, after dinner we sat down on my couch, he took off his tie, I told him all my problems, and that I felt so ashamed to like men so much. He had a broad smile and I was melting down. The door rang, I opened, and there he stood, in a nice suit & tie. That Tuesday I prepared a nice dinner and tried not to think in an erotic way of the pastor. I did and we made an appointment at my place. I started getting a bit emotional and the Garry asked me if I would like to talk a bit more during the week. He started a conversation with me and in short, I told him my story. The pastor, Garry, was tall, and broad-shouldered, piercing blue eyes, clean-cut and a marine-crew cut hair, amazingly strong jawlines. The pastor welcomed me after the sermon while we were all drinking coffee and chatting with each other. The pastor was an American mature dad in his fifties, married with a woman who turned out to be sick most of the time. I did a bit of work out, but was too tiny to my taste. Though I had not gone to church for a while, I started to go to one, in Amsterdam. I get married with a woman and to my sadness after seven years I got divorced. I grew up in a Pentecostal family in Holland, but deled in silence with liking men.