“You’re barely eating, are you feeling alright?” My mom was hovering, standing next to my chair, hand on a hip, staring concernedly at the waffle on my plate. I hadn’t taken more than two bites, if that and she’d noticed.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” I said unconvincingly, taking a third, small bite. “I just uh… third day jitters?” Of course, it being the third day of classes had literally nothing to do at all with my loss of appetite. No, instead, I simply couldn’t get the previous evening out of my head: Tom, nude, standing right in front of me, my mouth around his cock, sucking and not doing an especially great job of it. If I thought about it, I could still taste his cum, and feel the warm stickiness of it sliding down my throat. Even all of that wasn’t the main problem, but rather, my reaction, or lack of one. What I mean is, I hadn’t hated it. I can’t say that I liked it, especially, being forced more or less to go down on a guy, but it wasn’t the repulsive act I thought it would be. That was what occupied my mind the next morning.