|Photography by Angelito|
I can't recall what I was dreaming about..something involving spears, penguins and Aretha Franklin. The alarm clock failed at its function; more annoying that awakening. However, I couldn't hit the snooze on his touch. Firm and hungry, I woke up with his hands wrapped around my ankles. My dreams of The Queen of Soul was interrupted by his tongue raking against my soles. I remember being unsure. Uncertain whether I was actually awake or if my dreams jumped to another station.
In the brief moments where my flesh wasn't between his teeth, he said, "You're going to be late for work." Gnawing at my legs. Sticking his nose inside my briefs. Sucking at the stiff bulge begging to be released from the black cotton, his voice vibrated at my crotch, "I'd hate to see you rushing out of here. Do you see what time it is?"
I open my mouth wide to get some air. All I can see is his abdomen as his morning wood crams itself down my throat. Gasping. Sucking. Breathing around his thick cock sounds ironically like I'm snoring. Choking. Slurping. I feel like he's leaning all of his weight into my face as he pumps his hips. Prying my mouth open with his fingers, getting his dick in there good and deep, "What time does your office open, again? Nine? You really should be getting up, baby."
Getting out of bed. Brushing my teeth. Showering. Jumping on the BART. This all feel impossible without busting a nut. Eating breakfast. Putting on my tie. Signing in at work. None of that seems feasible without spilling this load. Stroking my cock. Pinching the head. It's 7:45 a.m. Salivating. Scheduling my next breath on his out-swing. If only I could schedule this orgasm. The sooner, the better.