Emery [bxb]

105

It's been a long time since Emery gave me head. He comes home from school nowadays, gets directly into violin practice and then drops into bed like a stone.

I give him a grumpy look when he notices I've got a hard-on.

"Want a BJ?" he questions.

"Well, it's been a whole week. So yeah, I guess it's finally time for a BJ."

"I'm sorry, Brandon. I've been really tired."

"Well, I'm in the mood, if you're not too tired..."

"I'm not too tired," he sighs, slipping off the couch. Men are visual animals. We see something we like; it boosts our testosterone, stimulates and arouses us. He knows to put on a little show before he kneels down, fishes me out of my pants and takes me in his mouth, using every trick in the book I taught him. He's amazing; I feel so relaxed.

My phone lights up with an incoming text and I lean over to tap the screen, realizing I have a flurry of unread messages. Social lives are so high-maintenance. "What're you doing," Emery grouses, looking up at me in annoyance.

"Sorry, sorry." I turn my phone off and place it face-down on the table before burying my hands in Emery's curls. Having my attention back on him, he resumes his work in earnest.