I stopped admiring this young man’s movie star looks when I realized he had a gun!

And this gunman looked over his shoulder toward the entrance to the building--checking to see if security guards would see and rush towards him. He jumped over several people lying on the floor and began running.

As this wacko gun-toting, but extremely handsome fellow ran past him, one of my players stuck out his leg. We heard the impact of the gunman's shin against Pete's and watched the handsome crazy man fall, smashing his head against a luggage cart. The gunman went limp and his gun went skittering across the floor and to parts unknown. My team surrounded the unconscious man, ready to beat him down with our fists if we had to.

But Joey Freed almost tenderly cradled the motionless gunman to his lap while Pete quickly checked vital signs. "He's out of it," he reported.

Cute fella. He was of Latino decent with gleaming glossy black hair slicked back on his head and seemed to be around twenty. He had a somewhat muscular frame, but he was short. About five feet seven. His skin was a light tan and his white tank top shirt revealed a broad chest and a flat, washboard stomach. His Green Card identified him as being Vicente Ernesto Escattina

We stood and stared at Escattina. He sure looked out. We, being a very horny troop of gay beach volleyball players, decided to examine our possibilities. We would remove Escattina's Converse sneakers and socks, and this way we could make moves to see if he was conscious, and yet have a viable excuse for touching him should he wake up or someone spots what we were doing.

He lay still as I pulled first his Converse sneakers, then his sweaty white socks off. I immediately fell in love with his feet. About size ten, smooth, perfect. His toes wriggled as I brushed my lips against those tan digits and inhaled the sweaty scent. It was not an unpleasant smell. When I kissed his toes their owner didn’t so much as flutter an eyelid. Yeah, our boy Vicente Ernesto Escattina was out of it, but was he just knocked out or comatose after having hit his head? I tickled the soles of Escattina's feet, and the cute tan toes wiggled, and the feet shifted a bit. But there was nothing in Escattina's handsome face.

Kneeling back, I gently tugged his khaki trousers and underpants down. Once they wee all the way off I threw them away carelessly. I straddled him. I was dominant sex fiend poised above the helpless crazed-but-unconscious formerly gun-toting thug. My entire team was more than ready to join in on the fun I was having. While gazing hungrily down at him I reached into my pants and grabbed my penis--could feel the surge and the rush of blood as it grew hard.

" Let me have a taste," replied Peter as he began to lick between the gunman's toes. And as my best player ran his tongue up and down the Latino's arch, and sucked on his toes, I played with my dick. After watching for a few moments, my other players attacked--Joey and Chad each sucking on one of the Latino’s swollen nuts and me licking Escattina's twitching cock until it began to ooze pre-cum. I then teased the rim of his dickhead, trying to see how much pre-cum I could get the knocked-out crazy young man to produce. Not much. I wanted his toes in my mouth again, so me and the star of my team decided to switch. After licking and sucking both of the gunman's feet, Pete took my place at sucking on his cock while I returned to the Latino’s feet, sucking on all ten of his sweet toes and licking his smooth sweaty soles!

As his cock oozed out more pre-cum we saw it ooze over his dickhead, and poor Pete sucked on the dick in his mouth hungrily, while I was wishing that I could shoot the load that I had built up in my pants. Eventually Vicente Ernesto Escattina began to shoot his load, and Pete had no choice but to swallow the crazed-but-unconscious gunman's juicy load until his own swollen balls release a load of their own!