Sometimes I worry that I'm just telling the same stories over and over, and maybe I am. How many different times did Monet paint the cathedral at Rouen?! Am I saying I'm the Claude Monet of describing dicks? Kind of.
We stayed in front of the TV, kissing and petting and chatting and snuggling and sort of also watching Twin Peaks. He said, "I want you to lean this way and tease me while I cuddle you."
His cock reached for me, hard under his soft pants. "Oh, you ARE a good boy," I said, just grazing my arm over his lap, then feeling the contours of him, friendly and hopeful and utterly here to serve. Not mine at all, but also, mine.
I played with the tip of his cock, thick and reaching. I'll never get over the jolt of it, of a dick that likes me. I would like to have him in my hands and mouth right now, or expertly folding me over, or just cuddling under a blanket watching TV and feeling him hard for me, like it's the first time I ever felt that. Every time, it feels like I've never experienced this before. Every time, a surprise.
Despite the ropes that will delightfully happen in the next installment, this wasn't really a Good Boy/Ma'am situation. It felt more equal, a delicious taste of vanilla, a warm friendship all full of kissing. I'm starting to feel so excited for everything that comes next!