"Hm," I say, noncommittally. Because you over exert yourself, forgetting about the outside world and your own well-being when you get lost in a book all day and well into the night. He wouldn't eat or sleep if we just kept in a good supply of books - especially with a smattering of the trashy detective novels just for fun. Those are like candy for Wes. It's kind of cute watching him read those- But I digress! If we let him read as much as he wants, that little baby would starve!
"Okay, good," I murmur, pleased that I don't have to waste any more food. It's not like we're sitting on a pile of money, you know! The kiss though, that *is* a good distraction it seems. Good. I'm relieved and I mentally start thinking about what I'm going to re-heat in the oven, what on the stove and maybe other activities for Wes--
What the--! It's my turn to land on the floor and I only just barely get a chance to hold onto Wes so that he and the baby don't slam into me - because I'm more worried about crushing the baby than myself, of course. And Jesus, do I ever have a horny Wesley on top of me. "Fuck," I grunt between onslaughts of Wes' mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Yeah, I'm not going to pretend that I don't have a little pent up energy in this arena after not getting to finish myself last night - I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself so it's not really a big deal - but wow. Wes getting so wound up so quick has me aching in seconds-- not to mention the way he's rubbing my mark in a way that goes straight to my cock.
There are very few thoughts actually going through my head other than some rudimentary caveman thoughts about fucking and fucking a lot. My hands are all over Wes, shoving up his shirt to get to his skin, wiggling between us to try to get to his cock. "God damn," I grunt, still in shock at the intensity and whiplash shift in Wes' mood.
"Okay, good," I murmur, pleased that I don't have to waste any more food. It's not like we're sitting on a pile of money, you know! The kiss though, that *is* a good distraction it seems. Good. I'm relieved and I mentally start thinking about what I'm going to re-heat in the oven, what on the stove and maybe other activities for Wes--
What the--! It's my turn to land on the floor and I only just barely get a chance to hold onto Wes so that he and the baby don't slam into me - because I'm more worried about crushing the baby than myself, of course. And Jesus, do I ever have a horny Wesley on top of me. "Fuck," I grunt between onslaughts of Wes' mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Yeah, I'm not going to pretend that I don't have a little pent up energy in this arena after not getting to finish myself last night - I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself so it's not really a big deal - but wow. Wes getting so wound up so quick has me aching in seconds-- not to mention the way he's rubbing my mark in a way that goes straight to my cock.
There are very few thoughts actually going through my head other than some rudimentary caveman thoughts about fucking and fucking a lot. My hands are all over Wes, shoving up his shirt to get to his skin, wiggling between us to try to get to his cock. "God damn," I grunt, still in shock at the intensity and whiplash shift in Wes' mood.
Reply
Leave a comment