Savoredsting
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 20, 2012
- Posts
- 1,113
Willard pulled into the drive of his brothers house on this plan street. he sighed at the very thought of this house sitting, while his brother served overseas. He shook his head and in his head told him self it was his older brother and he was serving his country, and it was the same brother who taught him about bikes.
He pulled his glasses from his eyes, showing the deep rich brown of his eyes as he shifted to his right leg. He was a good 6 feet in height and was about a good 195 to 200 pounds. His skin was taught over sinewy muscle, the skin was kissed by the light of the sun. His hair was short and a deep rich raven black. He wore tight jeans, and tight boots. His jacket was a simple jean jacket with a huge patch of a lions head on the back. he wore nothing but a simple thin wife beater underneath his jacket. He scanned this block and the houses. All roughly the same style and same color scheme. He shook his head as he watched an elderly guy try to fix an old truck, and than he kicked down the kick stand and slipped off his bike.
He walked over to the door and tried to slide the key he had into it. It wouldn't fit. He scratched his chin and than looked about. he sighed and breathed in deeply as his leather fingerless driving gloves clentched, and he rose his right fist and rapped on the door>
"Hello any one home" his rich baritone voice said as he "continued I'm Willard, Phillips brother, I'm here to watch his house, and well I geuss i got the address wrong" he says as he took a quick glance to look at his bike making sure his saddle bags and his pack and other gear was still secured on his bike.
He pulled his glasses from his eyes, showing the deep rich brown of his eyes as he shifted to his right leg. He was a good 6 feet in height and was about a good 195 to 200 pounds. His skin was taught over sinewy muscle, the skin was kissed by the light of the sun. His hair was short and a deep rich raven black. He wore tight jeans, and tight boots. His jacket was a simple jean jacket with a huge patch of a lions head on the back. he wore nothing but a simple thin wife beater underneath his jacket. He scanned this block and the houses. All roughly the same style and same color scheme. He shook his head as he watched an elderly guy try to fix an old truck, and than he kicked down the kick stand and slipped off his bike.
He walked over to the door and tried to slide the key he had into it. It wouldn't fit. He scratched his chin and than looked about. he sighed and breathed in deeply as his leather fingerless driving gloves clentched, and he rose his right fist and rapped on the door>
"Hello any one home" his rich baritone voice said as he "continued I'm Willard, Phillips brother, I'm here to watch his house, and well I geuss i got the address wrong" he says as he took a quick glance to look at his bike making sure his saddle bags and his pack and other gear was still secured on his bike.
