I’m a cock-hungry boy-whore, Sir.”“Good. Clean my cock then, boy-whore.” The little inflection the Midlands’ accent gave to the word “whor...” made it sound soft yet so dirty. “Lick up the mess that you made it leak.”Ben looked at the pale, soft flesh level with his nose, just aroused enough for the dome to have emerged from the foreskin. A dew-like drop of fresh precum clung to the tiny opening, surrounded by earlier excrescences that ranged from sticky to dried and flaking. Doing his best to. Traveling and selling tools had been my life; I didn't know anything else. My home at the time was a small apartment in Indiana, but I was rarely there. Over 300 days of the year I was on the road going from one place to another. The thought of finally staying in one place was alien to me. Oh, I suppose I could still travel, but for what reason? The idea of randomly going from one place to another without a purpose didn't appeal to me. My job had given me both a reason to travel and a balance. More

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