Chapter 39

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I had already turned down the bed and skinned out of my clothes. Singe had been musing over his grandparents, and hadn’t realised the inordinate amount of time I’d spent in the bathroom. I’d never taken a cock up my arse, but I was determined; I wanted to do it for him, and I’d lubed and stretched myself carefully.

St John undid his bowtie and his cummerbund and slid his arms out of those white braces. “I always used to hate New Year’s Eve,” he said pensively.

Now I was lying naked on the bed, watching as he undressed, as each article of clothing he removed revealed another tempting bit of his body.

“Oh! You are already in bed. I have kept you waiting.” He hurried to strip off the rest of his clothing.