The thin fabric caught on the head of his cock and the teasing feel of it rubbing his sensitive head was almost too much for him to stay silent about....It lifted his cock in the air before it slapped down on his skin, naked. Joe stayed still, unsure of what to do. His foot twitched as he felt Joyce's hot breath on his shaft, luckily the cover still hid it. It took all his might not to gasp as Joyce held his cock by the base in her hand and began to squeeze it. Joe realized that he needed to say. I should have listened when he crooned, ‘I really like you but I can’t be friends – not with these hands of mine.’ When his energy was around me I was totally intoxicated – could not look or pull away, even with the stakes that high. Sometimes I listen to songs I know he is hearing on his way to work or while running to the grocery store on a Sunday afternoon. Country songs, pop songs – silly or romantic or so sad they make you ache. I like to imagine how he looks singing them and if he ever. More

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