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Anonymous
Phelps writhed in the Australian's arms, his chiseled body helpless.
"Ian, stop! I can't...you know I'm with Bernard now." he protested weakly.
"You know Frenchy can never make you feel like I can, Michael. Besides, how can you say that with a boner like that?" Thorpes asked, pinching one of the gold medalist's hard nipples between his fingers.
And suddenly, as if they had summoned him, Bernard was there, and naked.
"Ce que l'enfer est en cours, Michael?"
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