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No: rather because it was the first available time toplausibly get this done and over with, hopefully, once and that's it.He lunged onto the bed and lay on his chest. He spread his legs. He puthis hands under the pillow on which he rested his head.That smile. That fucking smug smile of his. I'll never forget it.I basically did as he had described and requested. I knelt between hisspread legs. I began rubbing his lower back and cheeks and upper thingswith a fragrant oil. I alternated between soft, tender caressing andfirmer, tougher massaging. His skin warmed to my touch. My fingers slidinto his cleft and slid out."Tease me," he had asked. I did because he said it would increase thepleasure of the moment.I took his cock in my left hand and slowly stroked it. It firmed upquickly. I thought him an idiot: his cock is looking down parallel tohis leg; it's got to be in a bending pain. With my right hand I slowlysqueezed and palmed his balls. Then I crept up to that sensitive spotbetween. It was hers, and he ignored it, although some stray question as to why she’d set an alarm before his waking time tried to insinuate itself into his sleeping brain.She was back in the room by the time his alarm rang.“Don’t shower. I’m cooking breakfast.” Those were interesting data. She obviously had something planned. Well, he’d go along with it. But first, what did going along with it mean?“Shave?”“Definitely shave.” Which seemed to mean that she would want some kisses. That was fine, because he’d want some kisses, too.Breakfast was her cheese omelet. Carolyn cooked a variety of dinners, prepared a diverse selection of lunches on Saturdays -- most, but not all, based on left-overs from the dinners. She only cooked him two breakfasts, either cheese or western omelet. Since that was twice as many dishes as he cooked for breakfast, he was well pleased. The girl tended to eat cereal when she got up late. The meal was delicious, and he said so.“Just let those soak,” she said when he got.
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