But, I knew he didn't see it like that. He was pissed and,probably, a little hurt that his best friend was gay. This was abouthumiliation. Still th...ugh, with my cock still hard as a rock -- I knew whatthe answer was. I rolled off the bed and stepped over to him, hard cock leading the way.Some of his bluster faded away, though, "You don't want to do this, Tom." I didn't answer him, I just dropped to my knees and started unbuckling hisbelt. I cast my eyes up towards him and never averted. “It’s called a washing machine.”I punched him in the chest.“Don’t call me that,” I grumbled.“It’s been over a year now and I still don’t have the right to give you a nickname?”“I don’t like nicknames.”“And I don’t like Mondays, yet here we are.”I snorted, but it was replaced a moment later with a groan. “I should be at work,” I complained. “I can’t keep slacking off like this.”“Slacking off? Celine, that company runs just fine because of you. Give your employees some credit. They know what. More

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