I checked the alarm clock again. Eight past nine. I was wearing nothing under my bed robe and was eagerly awaiting my boyfriend Buck and his ten inch cock to come home and give me some lovin'.
I paced, I tried reading, checking my emails, and only three minutes had passed. The urge to beat myself off was incredible, I kid you not. See, Buck sometimes works late at the office, where he administers a lot of the networking. For someone with a geeky job like that, you wouldn't think the bulging muscles, chiselled jaw and beard that was Buck would ever fit that description. Even in his uniform he looked like he could just flex and all of his suit would fall off of him in tatters. (But then Buck almost never wore clothes so any stitch of fabric on him was out of place.) Its hard to believe a guy like him could still be with a scrawny guy with me who does match that job description, but instead works at the baker's down the street. But then, lately it seemed like maybe this wasn't going to last. See, me and Buck, boyfriends for the last four years, him being twenty three, me, twenty two, and it's always been smooth sailings until we both finally come under the stress that is home-owning. Sure, we could fuck until the cows came home without worrying about his cats coming in to watch us, or either of our intrusive parents walking in, but it just never seemed to be all that it was cracked out to be initially.
Finally, the headlights of his car beamed through the window and I felt my cock flip up like a switch had been pressed. I then went through a variety of positions in the living room and just when I thought I had this one with my back on the wall worked out the door was open. I looked at him and he looked at me and I knew it wasn't happening.
"Hey." He smiled, weakly kissing me on the cheek.
"Hey babe." I said as happily as I could. I couldn't believe it. "You don't look so good." He didn't. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was all greasy. Tissues poked from his front, bulging pocket and he shivered like crazy.
"Tiffany came into sick with the flu and I must have caught it when she sat with me on my lunch break." He struggled up the stairs with me supporting him. He moaned something about feeling shit, but all I could think of was Tiffany, that bitch! I met her once during a party at Buck's office. She continuously went on and on about how lucky I was, and how grateful I should be to have him. She would also laugh hysterically, and I mean this in the fake kind of way, at every joke he made. Later as she got drunk, she tried kissing Buck and feeling him up but luckily, the office-goth, Wendy was there to save the day by taking her to the bathroom where she puked so much the toilet over flowed. So yeah, he was sick and I was enraged with that harlot.
I helped him undress and to get into the tub. The water was covered in a veil of suds, which was a shame; I'd have liked to have watched the hair on his body move about like the seaweed. I sponged his face while he groaned and coughed, and occasionally sniffed up something awful.
"I see you wanted to surprise me." He said, with a flash of those pearly whites.
"Maybe." Was all I said, and reflexively my hand started to move south on him when I drew my hand back. "But we probably shouldn't do anything like that until you're feeling better." Maybe. He said. He then lifted his arm from the water and ran it under my robe and onto my chest.
"Can I at least jack it?" He said. Fuck how I loved this man.
"Well, I guess if I'm not the one with the snot-rags." I said, feeling my face go red. It never mattered how many times we did this, I always got sheepish.
I stood up and undid my robe where my eight inch cock was at half mass. His thick, man fingers curled around it and began to go up and down. I sighed out and cooed at the feeling of his powerful hand caressing my cock was amazing. He began to move faster, pumping me with his powerful hand as it began to make sticky sounds with the foreskin rubbing against my cock. I had to bend over and grab the bath-side for support, I was weak in the knees.
"You like that, don't you?" He said huskily, and coughed.
"Oh yeah." I moaned, and then I felt it coming.
"I'm gonna..." was all I could utter and then my back arched and I shot thick ropes of cum into the bathwater. I was panting, and he was coughing a little.
"Shame I can't return the favour." I sighed.
"You owe me?" He said, hopping out of the water, his own cock now at full mass. "Deal." And I eyed it for a while but then thought better to towel him off and put him to bed.
It was a long two week with him on the couch constantly needing a bowl of vomit changed, bottles of water (and on some days his favourite beers), running around for prescription pills. I won't lie; this wasn't the prettiest side of him I'd seen.
