"Yes, Sir." As my palms go over his overall body, his cock, his frivolously bushy balls, he shivers. "Up," I order. Then, "Around." Once he’s obeyed, I convert him so that his fingers are planted on the webbing of 1 of the recliners. I flip him close to once again and draw him shut, allowing for myself to run my fingers more than his skin right before hooking my thumbs less than the waistbands of both of those the denim and his shorts.