Posts tagged Bathroom

Tax Archer is why we take road trips. He’s gonna be a star. He knows it. You (and Joe Serna) are gonna make him one. He’s as bold and colorful as the sheets on his Venice Beach hotel room bed. From the get go, Tax makes it clear that he “lives for Venice Beach.” After getting to know him in this session, so will you. When we first meet our new best friend, he’s wearing gray cut-off shorts, a sleeveless Vail t-shirt, white socks, and carrying a straight porno mag. It’s a good look for him. And for Venice Beach. He could be a marine—or a beach punk. He’s got a baby face that’s cute and nasty at the same time and gets pretty red during this intense workout. If Tax actually worked out his whole body a little (instead of just his cock and his mouth), he would quickly lose his traces of baby fat, sculpting his natural build (pretty smooth, except for a great trail) into even more of the classic SoCal stud than he already is. You can’t live for Venice Beach and be shy, so it’s not at all surprising that Tax talks a lot of trash throughout this awesome session. He’s up front from the get go that his “favorites” are “little virgin girls” (at least 18, of course) and that he needs a “girl who knows she’s a freak and ain’t shy about it at all.” That does sound like a match, Tax. Have I mentioned yet that our Mr. Archer has a perfect cock, which he alternately pounds relentlessly and pets gently? Well he does. He’s also got a toy: “I have something I’ve been waiting to show you. I didn’t want to break it out just yet. It’s a little bigger than mine,” he says with some false modesty, unwrapping a torpedo-shaped dildo, rubbing it all around his ass and balls with his right hand, and then sucking on it, while never missing a left-handed beat on his own formidable torpedo. “You wanna see me cum, don’t you?” sneers Tax, now on his knees. “Are you ready? Feel like cummin!’” Subjected to more relentless pounding, Tax’s cock (the real one) pours a heavy stream of beach boy cum over his shoulder. “O, that felt good,” he confirms, as if we couldn’t tell. On his way to clean up, Tax notices that he “got a little cum on the magazine. Guess the pages are gonna be stuck together.” No problem. When Tax saunters into the bathroom with the sticky mag, he discovers a whole new stash of porn. Standing in front of the mirror, with his balls resting on the counter, poor Tax is overwhelmed by too many choices (“all these porno girls are so picturesque”), but seems to settle, at least briefly, on Nicky. He can’t stop jacking off even in the shower, propping a mag within view, and even getting close to cumming, until the balancing act becomes too complicated and he retreats to the bed, where it’s easier to prop the mags against his leg and “finish up.” Have I mentioned that Mr. Archer is intense? That he gives new meaning to the words “beating your meat”? Well, he is. He does. After spewing another impressive river of jizz up his shoulder, Tax knows that we “wanna see a straight guy taste his cum,” and, winningly, he obliges. If you’re like me, what you’ll really wanna see is a Tax Archer solo release from Defiant. What should Joe call it? “The Tax Man Cummeth”? “A Star is Born”? “Picturesque Porno Boy”? Whatever. Just hit the road again soon and bring it on, dude.

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