It had been almost a year since I was with Tom Cooz. Back then we barely knew each other. We shared an interest in making movies, an appetite for sex and an afternoon of both. After that we kept in contact while he lived far away.
Last night I kissed him with desire that for a year only my fingertips on a keyboard could express. I reached for the growing bulge in his pants, unzipped him, got him out for a taste. He took deep breaths, said something that had my name in it, I can’t remember. My kid was in the living room playing trains with Daddy, and I was distracted, afraid of being caught. I asked him to wait. It’s the worst thing to demand from a hard cock, but waiting is the torturous plight of parents. (Let this be a lesson to the childless but reckless.)
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