Turning up the radio, he pulled his shorts down to his ankles. In this first private moment for four days, he had to relieve himself. Fat and engorg...d, his perineum tight, he began to stroke. Fully erect and veiny, the violet head of his cock bulged. A loud pulsating guitar solo typified his mood; he needed to fuck - that would alleviate the boredom. He wrestled with that thought, he needed to fuck regardless of being bored, happy, sad or excited. Stroking his cock, he closed his eyes. In. I warmed to the sound of my own surname from my time and sat to discuss my requirements with him."I want you to fashion me a bow Ian mac Donald. It will be no ordinary bow however, not one such as that you are currently making. This bow will be two yards in length and must be made from the wood of the Yew tree." But my Lord, that would make the bow taller than a man, well most men anyway." He faltered, nervous again having made reference to my size.I laughed and told him more of what I wanted.. More

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