Clean my balls

"Clean my balls," he states unhooking his button and pulling down his pants.

You look at him afraid, and also quite disgusted. His cock had smelled grotesque, and now he wanted you to go to the source.

You had hesitated too long.

He forcefully guided you into balls, before shaking your head roughly in an effort to loose your tongue. You complied, hoping to stop him from breaking your neck.

You licked his testicles, separating each brown fold and wrinkle with your tongue. The taste was awful, and dominated your mouth and senses.

You quickly switched, choosing to give him little kisses up and down his balls and shaft.

You stared, startled, at how your pale, hairless white skin stood out against his dark, hairy brown body.

You sucked down one of his testicles reveling in how it rolled on your tongue. You bathed his balls in your saliva, humiliated at how he pressed your face to clean them, and yet getting increasingly turned on.

How good would it feel to have this girthy cock split you open, feed your hungry womb with its seed.

Such thoughts were dangerous, but certainly overpowering in your lust addled mind.

The idea of fucking this revolting old man was making you uncontrollably wet.

You shot a hand down to your pussy to deal with the building discomfort, while the other hand went to massage his brown shaft.