Rough and Ready by Adam McCabe

Author:Adam McCabe [Laurents, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-3-7325-2727-4
Publisher: Bastei Entertainment
Published: 2016-11-16T00:00:00+00:00

When the Cat’s Away … — by Lawrence Schimel

My boyfriend was in Los Angeles for two weeks on business and by Wednesday of the first week I was desperately lonely and missing him. And I was horny as hell.

We lived together, and while we didn’t have sex every night, we did have intimacy every day, the low-key domestic intimacy of holding each other as we watched the news, of brushing against one another in the bed we shared, even the simple fact of having each other in the same space. Now that he was gone, I realized how much I missed picking up after him, since it meant that he was here, had been here, for me to pick up after, even if I didn’t see him at that very moment. In the few days that Kevin had been in Los Angeles, I had long ago cleaned up any casual indicators of his presence; sure, all his stuff was still here, but it was all too neatly in place — where I had placed it, since Kevin was so cavalier about his living environs — and I missed the small messes he made to show his presence, like coming into the bathroom and finding a string of dental floss floating in the toilet, waiting to be flushed away.

I didn’t just miss his presence and constant companionship. I missed his body. I missed waking up next to him and feeling his early morning piss boner pressing against my thigh. I missed waking up before him and lifting aside the sheets, licking my way down his flat abs to that boner, aching for release, and sucking him awake. And some mornings, after drinking his cum, I kept his dick in my mouth as it went soft, wouldn’t let go until he’d unloaded his night’s bladder down my throat, washing away the sweetness of his cum with the brine of his piss.

His body was always so present. He liked to strip to his t-shirt when he came home from work, leaving his suit, shirt, and tie rumpled on the couch or floor, wherever they had fallen. He even stripped off his underwear, childish BVD briefs he still wore, out of habit, though he was certainly no longer a boy. His thick, floppy cock attested to that, and all evening long I’d get glimpses of it, dangling low and peeking out from beneath the edge of his thin t-shirts, worn almost sheer with age. I couldn’t get enough of him, of watching him, of feeling him, even after having lived with him for four years.

We’d settled, as it seems all domestic couples eventually do, into not having sex all the time, letting the tension and pressure and desire for each other build, to make the sex more intense. Watching him lounge about the apartment though, careless in his nudity, always brought an ache to my balls. Kevin was so unselfconscious about his body, which is one of the qualities I found most appealing about him.

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