"I lifted my mouth of his cock. "Calling me names doesn't do anything for me," I said."For either of us," my wife warned."Never mind," he said, rollin... on to the bed and presenting his asshole to me. "Start rimming me. Show your Daddy how good you eat ass." Not my thing," I said."Get your tongue down there, you queer little whore." Not my thing," I repeated. "And I think I made it pretty clear about being called names." I was smiling and doing my very best to be affable and polite. This guy was. We’ve both earned every scar, every callous for the sake of our craft. My hands have long lost anything feminine about them, but I’m strangely content by that – these hands can craft dreams out of metal and stones. “Hi baby,” he whispered in my ear as he rubbed my shoulder. “Productive night?” He’s stopped asking whether it was a long night long ago. Sometimes, for me, nights are never long enough. “Yes,” I mumbled back, and continued to enjoy his hands on my body. He lowered his head to kiss. More

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