Chapter 3
Because the assisted living home for elderly people where Mrs. O’Hara lived told Scotty not to come until the afternoon, I decided to wake up my fiancé with a blow job.
Scott hadn’t bothered to redress the night before after our late night f**k-fest, so it was easy enough to just scoot down our bed and swallow his morning wood.
“Jesus, Edgar,” he gasped, just before coming.
A satisfactory beginning to the day.
I wiped my hand across my mouth, too lazy to get out of bed quite yet, and crawled to my side of the bed next to him.
“Good morning.” I stroked light circles across his still-quivering belly. He continued to lie on his back, eyes closed, breath coming out in puffs.
“Morning.” His lips quirked up at the corners. “That was a nice wake-me-up. Much nicer than some blarin
