Housesitting

Linda felt the warmth of Bobby's spunk along her lower back. Then she felt Bobby kiss her back, the same spot he had before, and fall to her side on his back.

"Sorry... didn't want to cum inside you."

Linda was amused at how Bobby repeated his justification and apologized, as if he was worried about offending her. She was hardly offended.

"It's cool. No mess."

Bobby noticed the floral print covering the bed; it was scratchy on his bare ass. "These sheets must be antique."

He admired the streak of cum across the curve of Linda's butt and realized it was starting to run.

"Let me get you some tissue!"

He jumped off the bed and walked briskly to the bathroom. Linda continued to lay prostrate on the bed, trying hard not to move. These sheets were definitely antique, and as much as she was willing to risk to be with Bobby, she didn't want to pay a dry-cleaning bill.

She breathed deeply and thought about the all-consuming feeling of comforting warmth that she was feeling - she hadn't felt this way after sex in a long time. It usually meant a strong attachment, a desire to be with a person, to wake up the next morning with them. If it wasn't the afternoon, she'd want to crawl under the sheets with Bobby and fall asleep in his arms. She hoped Bobby had meant it when he said he wanted to see more of her, and she had no reason to disbelieve him. She didn't want him to go - maybe he could stay the night?

In the bathroom, Bobby was quickly unrolling a large wad of toilet paper from the wall. On his way back out of the bathroom, he caught his reflection in the large vanity mirror - nude, his dick still engorged, but floppy, glistening with sex. He looked back at himself - he realized he was smiling. And he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled. He really hoped this worked out with Linda.