Chapter 4

He cleans up the best he can. Wriggles out of his clothes and puts both pairs of fertilized underwear in his backpack in one ball. When he puts hands on his dick to wipe it clean, it hardens and unfurls at the thought of their cum co-mingling, and he can’t help pulling another load from it before he tucks it back into his jeans. He knows his bulldog won’t be waiting for him in the terminal, which almost makes it more of a let-down when he’s not. His jeans are wet, front and back, and he creeps up the stairs to the food court’s overflow seating balcony, deserted as always. Henry perches in a corner and waits to air dry, figuring he’d rather watch people scurry by from a hiding place than watch them gawk at him on the train.