Ira has laptop s*x with his boyfriend on Skype. Approximately twenty minutes to one in the morning, they play makeup. I hear him tell his laptop/Lou, “Let’s strip out of our pajamas and jack off.”
Frankly, I want to tell Ira to get off my sofa and go home. He can f**k his boyfriend in their shared apartment. It’s too late, though, since he blows his load after two minutes of stroking. Too bad for all of us involved, I guess.
The next morning, I tell Ira, “You need to dry-clean my sofa. I know you jacked off on it after I went to bed.”
“It all ended up on my chest,” he admits over coffee. “Besides, you know I have a low sperm count. My loads are minimal. I never did produce a lot of sperm-goo.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t care how much you’re jacking out of your d**k, Ira. You’re missing m
