On Cockwarming

On Cockwarming

He pulls out his cock, soft, and motions me over to the couch. I match the last pair of socks and sigh inwardly -- to him, I smile.

"You mind?" he asks. "Just 'til the game is over."

I glance at the tv. Second quarter.

"I... how long is that?" I ask. "I was going to finish my chores and read for a few minutes..."

"An hour or two. But if reading is more important than our relationship--"

"No, it's fine," I say. "I'm sorry."

I take his cock in my mouth, my nose pressed close to his belly. He settles back, breathing out a long sigh.

"I'm so glad you're into this," he says. He turns up the game. He takes a drink. "It's incredibly relaxing."

"Mmphf."

"Little deeper, please. That's perfect."

He calls his friend, talks about hitting some balls at the range. Ice cubes clink in his glass. He laughs about something on his phone. The minutes crawl. My jaw aches. I cannot imagine how -- how -- he can get hard again but inevitably he does.

"Alright, baby, you can suck now," he says. "I know you're sore so go slow. Make it last."