few glasses of wine with an older guy. record player on. talking, chatting, giggling. he's sitting on the couch with his feet up and his legs apart just enough. I'm bashfull, nervous. dizzy with wine. he waves me over. I shyly sit between his thighs, his chest to my back. I take another sip and blush hard when I feel his hands start to navigate my shoulders. they snake around my torso. down my arms. my chest. massaging. groping. his face leans in, lips next to my ear, "you feel so good, pretty boy". I whimper audibly, my thoughts quickly leaving my head. I lean back into his touch just a little as a hot red blush creeps up my neck. his fingers hook underneath the hem of my shirt, hot skin on my skin. he grabs me a little firmer, eagerly exploring every inch of me. I think I stop breathing when he kisses my neck. and stop breathing again when he unbuttons my jeans. he palms at my bulge, my briefs already wet and my cock already hard. he laughs again, cooing me with a gentle "shhhh". fingers slip inside me and he calls me good boy. I'm hot in his embrace. my eyes gloss over. mouth lolled open. bucking my hips. whining. I try and stammer how good it feels but I can't even get the words out. his fingers. his fingers. his fingers. around my cock. pumping in and out of me. the other arm across my chest. feeling me tremor. holding me close. fuck. fuck. ohmyfucking god fuck. I'm close. I'm. he pushes me over the edge. I'm panting. body slack. he stuffs his fingers in my mouth to clean them off and praises me over and over and over and over. I'm blissed out. smiling. half asleep. i feel a blanket pulled over us. he folds me into his lap. kisses my cheeks. there are fingers in my hair.
two empty glasses on the coffee table.
the record skipping. and who knows how long it's needed to be flipped.