The blindfolded taste of lust-2

“Which one do you think will cum more?”

He doesn’t have the slightest clue. He can’t even really think about it. “Stop it with your questions he feels like saying” but instead, he simply answers again: “I don’t know.” They feel different. The smooth balls hang more, are softer, whereas the hairier ones are tighter. No one is touching him. His erection is left helpless. He can’t fully grasp the situation, but he does tell himself: “I’m holding to men, I’m holding two men” and with all his will, he works to move his fingers, but there’s this deaf resistance coming from deep within, similar to a dream where you can’t scream though you try. He tries to breathe. It’s only been what, five seconds? Breathe. Trying to shatter this paralysis. And it’s not so much his will, than his body that does it, because he still can’t seize what’s happening when his fingers, all ten of them, slowly feel these men’s balls, when both his hands then move up slightly and grab, for the first time in his life, the base of two strange men’s cocks. He closes his fists around them. He pulls them downward lightly, strokes them ever so slightly.