Training Tom Ch. 03: Humility Pt. 02

She turned him gently to lay on his back, then squeezed his cheeks and pried his jaw off her tit. Her body slid off the bed.

He lay with his eyes closed, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. A sink ran in the other room, then he heard the torrential jet of Sophie's piss gushing into a toilet. He had heard it before, yet the immense force of her stream never failed to impress him. After she flushed, he discerned the sound of elastic snapping, then the sink ran again.

Something warm and wet touched his crotch and he startled from his reverie.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Sophie consoled. "I'm just cleaning up your messes."

He looked down to see her wiping him gently with a wet washcloth. She had donned a tight black sports bra and matching spandex shorts. Her hair was up in a ponytail.

"Now that my tits are empty, I'm going for my morning run," she informed him crudely, with no sense of irony, as if this was how every high school girl began her day. "Just lie here and recover, sweetheart. Think about everything you just experienced. And do your best to recharge your batteries. You have a lot of work to do when I get back."

She turned and glided out of the bedroom. Seconds later he heard the room door swing shut.

He wondered vaguely what she meant by work and how it was possible she had more in store for him after the raw intensity of the past hour. He tried to reflect on the highlights of their encounter, starting with her invitation to breakfast. But a deep discomfort suddenly surged through him. He writhed painfully on the bed, fearful that Sophie had somehow induced this new agony; to remind him in her absence that she was always there, deep inside him.

Indeed, she had. His bladder was about to burst.