He craved for this coming week to be just like the last, perhaps even better. “On your way, I’ll cover with Matthew,” Tom offered. It was as if she would and could swallow his whole cock, given half a chance. Sucking purposefully as the head tickled her throat, she seemed devoid of a gag reflex. Rather than raising an objection, secretly Tom rubbed his hands together, sensing an opportunity of his own with the Dylan Sanders clone, the most flirtatious of the Angels. In fact, all that was missing was the pole, discounting the one in Matthew’s trousers. Tom’s still in bed. He craved for this coming week to be just like the last, perhaps even better. He figured that didn’t really constitute cheating, validation of the journey he’d made from carefree boy to responsible man.
