Braxton leaned over the tub, reaching inside with a crumpled piece of toilet paper. He wiped over the holes of the round silver drain cover, extracting some human hair, along with the remnants of his latest load of jism.
Some brown hair and white pearls of semen were on top, but a majority hung intertwined below the drain cover. With one hand, he wrapped most of the scum in the toilet tissue, and then used his bare fingers to to pinch-and-pull until the drain’s surrender was complete. He walked over to the toilet, tossing the captured treasure in. Hitting the water, the wad made cupping noise.
Braxton sighed, stood square, and proceeded with his clean-out. His pisshole opened wide, releasing a deluge of urine. Instantly, a burning sensation in his urethra was present. Jerking off in the shower did this sort of thing. He isn’t certain if it’s the soap getting inside or he was just stroking too aggressively. Either way, he rather enjoyed it. Braxton never got this pain after the many other ways he orgasmed, so this was always kind of special. A special pain.
Braxton hung his towel, grabbed his shower bag, and walked out into the hallway. His friend Marco nearly ran into him.
“Opps. Sorry. Door was open, so I let myself in.” Marco said.
Marco was a fit young Italian guy from two doors down. He worked nights at Tops Bakery, making the next day’s bread. His wife, a paralegal at Jimms, Tale & Wesseley. Marco was of average height, with a swimmer’s build. Black hair and blue eyes. Full firm lips. Sicilian.
He was wearing black boots, tight bell-bottom jeans, and a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled high on his arms.
This guy looks like he just steeped off Ellis Island – Braxton thought. Refractory-period over, his cock started to fill with blood. It was always a real treat when Marco showed up.
Braxton, squirmed his way around Marco, and headed for the kitchen.
For nine month’s now, Braxton and Marco had their routine: While Janet was working at the law firm during the day, Marco would come over and eat Braxton’s asshole out. He’d kiss and love on Braxton’s starfish as if it were an entity unto itself. Sexually, there was never anything else – just a daytime rimjob.
Marco asked Braxton if he could do it the second time they spoke to each other. Intrigued and excited, Braxton agreed.
“Aren’t you married? What about your wife?”
After a month of having Marco’s sweet tongue inside of him daily, Braxton got his answer.
“It helps me fuck my wife that much harder. My cock is super-hard with her – after eating you.”
Marco followed braxton into the kitchen. Braxton, still nude after toweling dry, opened the fridge and took out a cherry soda. He walked over to the window above the sink and peered out. Lily, from the apartment across the courtyard, was working on a potted plant just outside her door. As she straightened up from leaning over, Lily directed her face up toward the sun. As she brought it back down, she caught Braxton looking at her. He threw up his hand. Lily waved back. She couldn’t have known, at that very moment, the tongue of her best friend’s husband was entering his shithole.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/n31pl9/lunch_date