Francis hugged Patrick from behind as he stirred the oatmeal. Then she spun around to show off her pants suit. "How do I look? I have to take depositions today and I want the opposing council to know I mean business."
Patrick turned his head to evaluate his wife's attire. "Your outfit is positively unisex. At least take your hair out of that bun."
"It's the style," Francis shrugged. She set the bowls out on the table and sat in her spot by the door to the fire escape. Patrick dished the oatmeal out from the pot and went to wash it in the sink. "Honey, that can wait for later. I have to be at work early today. Hurry up and eat with me." Patrick sat down and poked at his breakfast. Francis devoured hers.
After Francis had left, Patrick closed the living room curtains. It was a relief to be alone. He thought back to his Tuesday off.
Was a blowjob that much to ask for?
The clock told him he had an hour to spare before he had to walk to the lab. Opening his browser, he googled "blowjob". A few clicks later he was watching a video of a woman kneeling before two well endowed actors. His right palm pressed on the crotch of his pants. His fingers of his left hand slipped under his shirt to spread across his six-pack. He squeezed his balls through the pants fabric, causing his cock to rise. His left fingers were there to greet his cockhead once it emerged from his waistband. Patrick inserted his pointer into his foreskin to tease his piss hole. The flap of skin retracted as his member reached its full 10 inches.
Soon, his shirt and pants were on the floor. Patrick spat onto his fingers and spread the slick saliva onto the front of his dick just below the cockhead. Tracing the sensitive nerve running down the pole, he imagined the feel of his wife's tongue. Intense delight flowed through his body as he continued to stimulate that pleasure point. Patrick tucked the waistband of his boxers under his nuts so that his entire package was available for playing. He rubbed his cock with his palm while kneading his balls with his fingertips. One hand glided down to cup his stones while the other moved to the computer keyboard.
A bit more searching brought up pictures of a woman sucking on a man's swingers. Patrick grabbed the hand lotion on his desk and drizzled a generous portion onto his sac. He gripped his lubed cum factories, squeezed, and tugged. Another squirt of lotion went to his dick. He spread it with his other hand. Picturing it in his wife's willing mouth, he wrapped his digits around the shaft. He pumped that rod hard while pulling more forcefully on his cods. A familiar tingling started in his cream-crackers. Patrick released his package. Breathing like a Lamaze instructor, he rested his palms on his thighs. Slowly, the urge to cum subsided. He knew he had to save his load for Francis's nightly dose.
Patrick tucked his shrinking manhood back into his boxers. In short order, he was dressed and walking to work. A large collection of samples to sequence awaited him at the Centre for Structural and Functional Genomics. It was time to make up for taking Tuesday off. Patrick sighed. His passion was hydroponics, but the funding was in genomics. A friend interrupted his silent lament.
"Good morning Romeo. How is the misses?" It was Dr. Sam Shatz, a visiting professor from the States. "Are your efforts bearing fruit?"
