Chapter 91

The explosion from the tip of my cock had coated Patrick good. G, I wrote it over his heart once more, through it. Then he took some from around it to monogram mine. P. “I want to be in your heart forever.”

Lying back in his arms afterward, stretched out but still close, our cum and sweat, our hair and our flesh were all smooshed together, as the hands on the clock overhead tick, tick, ticked away time.

“That’s not a very romantic word,” I said after quite a few seconds.

“What’s that?” Patrick asked.

“Were you sleeping?” I thought he was.

“Uh-uh. I was listening to you hum.”

“I was humming?” I snuggled in. “What song?”

“If I’m not mistaken, it was ‘I Feel Pretty,’ from West Side Story.” He laughed. I cringed.

“Oh, good God!”

“I’m glad you feel pretty, with your hair all mussed, your body all naked, your bowtie crooked. Phew.” Patrick wiped his brow. “They do keep it warm in here, or maybe it’s us being all smooshed together.”