You raise the lean but beefy little Morsel straight up to your eye, the ride dizzying him and the sudden speedy force pushing him flat against your palm as his stomach does cartwheels below his abs. He’s a scrumptious little thing and you can’t help but lick your lips as your wide gigantic eyes violate his sense of propriety over his own body. His smell is intoxicating. Now just musky manliness, as you expected, but also something sweet, almost fruity.
Your sniffing has gotten rougher. You notice that your nose is pressing deeply into his chest causing him to writhe like mad, only exacerbating the fear of his fellow toys below.
You can’t waste time sampling each part of him as his intoxicating odor has you positively crosseyed and drooling. So you roughly plop off his comically large basketball shoes and slide off his nearly knee high socks. He reaches for his feet, trying to stop you, but your other hand is already pinning his lower half down so you can rip his shirt off of his meaty shoulders. When he is distracted by his naval and abs suddenly exposed you grip his shorts from below and pull both them and his underwear off in a single motion. He now screams profanities to try hiding his immasculation as he stands on the palm of your hand, a relative child to him but large enough to dominate him, completely nude and at your mercy.
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