Neighborhood children ran after him, waving and wishing they could be him some day. Some days he would hoist a couple of them onto his back and advise...them to be careful when they crossed the street on their way home. He didn’t belong in this day and age. He was too much of an iconic American hero. More than once he risked his own safety to save the life of a friend and stranger. He rarely spoke. At times, hours would pass without so much as a solitary word. He communicated with his eyes, his. He was, as I had remembered, very well endowed. As he continued to sit back, against the shed, looking down at me, I took his cock in my hands, and stroked his veiny shaft, very gently – his back arched and I enjoyed the site of his lips parting and the sound of his moaning. Pushing apart his legs, I knelt in between them, and without releasing my gentle grip on his cock, I continued to kiss his wonderful body, from his nipples, slowly down and over his stomach until I reached that sensitive. More

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