love tunnel

His walk from the Surf Hotel at a quarter of three in the morning went through darkly opaque streets, past shuttered concessions, ossiferous silhouettes of roller coasters, purple plaster serpents coiled across the entrance of a love tunnel, and the debris of trivial dramas.

Through the clear water I could see his cock. He looked a good nine inches or so with a lovely mushroom head. I could imagine how it would feel sliding in and out of my love tunnel.