LAST NIGHT

"Rim me," he commanded.

How is one to decline an offer?

He is a model. 5'8. Swimmer's body. A face to lust for.

And a libido of a teenage boy.

After a great blowjob, whatever his whims, it will be your command.

My hands lowered to his abs, tracing the humps.

Lower.

Down to his white underwear.

His cock. Stiff and hard as wood.

"Rim me," he commanded again. This time positioning himself.

The night went by quick, I want my foreplay slow.

"Pull it down," he pleaded.

His request, my command.

I pulled it down.

Saw something peculiar.

Stared at it.

Stared long.

What the hell is that?

The eyes looked closer.

Damn it.

The model, for all his perfection, hides a frailty.

Taken aback, I pulled up my pants.

To hell with raunch.

My tongue will not taste that ass.

When it left brown skidmarks on his jockeys.