Chapter 31

Did I enjoy his afternoon hand-show? Who wouldn’t?

Before I realized it, his work jeans and white boxer-briefs were pushed down to his ankles, snug against his camel-colored boots, and his erection was upright and firm between his thighs. He leaned against the deck’s frame and started jacking himself off, arching his neck and back. A groan filled the early afternoon, which told me that he was enjoying himself, putting on a show that was intended just for me, toying with his erection with one hand, both hands, and back to one hand, until he shot a string of his come all over the ground, spiraling it against the autumn grass and crisp leaves, becoming spent, sweat-slicked, and exhausted.

I left his lunch in its paper bag by the tree. And slowly I slinked away, returning to my attic room and work, smiling from ear to ear because of his afternoon show against the deck, pleased with his sticky labor, enamored with him only more. My boyfriend. My lover. 35: Crashing Down

August 20, 2014