Matt Rife Haircut Novels & Stories

I continued to kiss him, loving the way he arched his back whenever I touched the plug. Breaking away from the kiss, I turned Matt to face the mirror and watch our reflections. It was, after all, what I wanted, for him to see himself as I fuck the living hell out of him. Placing kisses on his back, I stood behind him and brushed away his hair from one bare shoulder and placed kisses along it, working my way up his neck. “Are you going to leave your hair this long, or do you intend to cut it short?” “Do you like it long?”

That break and the subsequent rehab Matt had to endure are what caused him to work out more, to strengthen up his arm muscles to the point where he could hurl a football farther than anyone else ever had at their high school. Where Mike had brown hair, Matt was a sandy blonde, his hair just long enough to tuck up under his hat to avoid getting insulted by the local rednecks. He was nicely built, had thicker arms than Mike, but the two could pass for brothers. Their attitudes and general demeanor were the only things that separated them.