So last night I gave Taylor a bath. Nothing unusual there, since he nearly always wants me to scrub him when he bathes.
After the bath, though, he started to get a little frisky; neck kissing and boobie groping and all that good stuff. When I noticed him getting a hard on I was like… Hmmm… come in the bedroom a minute, Honey.
So he follows me in the bedroom and I shut the door and he starts counting.
Seriously! Counting! 59, 58, 57…
And grabbed up the new strawberry lube I’d just bought to help me in the deficient spit whilst sucking dick department, slathered it on and told him he might want to reconsider that counting, unless he wanted me to be done when he got to zero.
The lube? It was wonderful. He got an unasked for blow job and I ended up getting one of them “I’m on top and get to get off 72 times while I rock myself half to death on his dick” sort of fucks.
I mention this because, as soon as we were done (like 30, 40 minutes later) he was like…
10, 9, 8, 7…
I nearly laughed my fool head off.
What a totally fabulous way to get rid of the grumps!
I drink a lot of coffee, ride a motorcycle, have an 18 year old son and a decade long relationship that began in a chat room.
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