The always inquisitive half-child in me desperate to know what had been said. My torment went on like that for the next hour or so. Unable to speak to...Jill, but nearly always able to see her as she flitted around the club. Serving drinks, chatting to customers and staff alike. More often than not with a warm and happy smile on her face. I was happy to see that she was enjoying everything, but in torment that I couldn’t talk to her. Locked in the smelly bowels of the club, watching as numerous. It was very dark in the theater area but I could see movement as I stood at the back letting my eyes adjust. Soon I could make out guys in the last row jerking off.In the middle of the theater there were two guys sitting together and as I watched, one bent over and started to suck the other guy’s cock.As my eyes adjusted more, I noticed a couch area off to the side. There was a guy there with a woman who was playing with his hard cock. I moved over nearer to them and watched as the guy blew a. When I hit 13 and my hormones started to kick in, all I could think about was fucking girls, and masturbation was a two or three times a day thing for me. It's funny how sexually volatile teenage boys can be; it's almost a painful thing since they find themselves horny all the time with no one willing to satisfy their desperate urges. Anyway, after a year or so of constant jerking off and fantasizing about just about any female that crossed my path, I finally realized that without really. No matter what the hell he was looking at, he seemed to be searching for something in them. Not like he was lost, but sort of like he was just so curious about everything. I allowed myself a few moments of naughty thoughts, like how I would love to have him look at me like that, how much I wanted to kiss those small, pouty lips of his and how badly I wanted to grip his long, black hair so much I got tangled in them, tangled into him. Before I could move on into my fantasy, I saw a guy who.
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