Mr. B put his arm around my waist and pulled me back close to him. I was petrified and I was breathing heavily out of fear.“Don’t worry no one’s...going to hurt you. Are you afraid”?“A little”, I said. His hand was on my shoulder now. “I have another book you may like better, he said with that quaint accent. Then I saw a magazine called ‘Colt 21’. It had color pictures and mostly of young boys. Some of the pictures were strange; they’d obviously found boys with the biggest penises and gotten them. His glistening, wet, tanned skin, bubbly pectorals, very well-defined six-pack, and massive claves, hamstrings and gluteus that phenomenally flexed with every step.He was not as huge as those hulking bodybuilders that appearing fitness magazines; he was about my height, but in exceptional physical shape. He was just a human-sized god. I also noticed several scars s**ttered around his body. They seemed both slashing and piercing injuries. Were they shot wounds? Shit! Who the fuck was that guy?. More

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