The name “Otis” was embroidered on his denim shirt and he stuck out his calloused hand to great me. Otis was a decent looking black man, about 6 f...ot tall and obviously had taken care of his body his whole life I figured him to be around 65-70 from the grey hair adorning his head. “Nam’s Otis. Ya called ‘bout a broke water heater?” “I finished with my last job early, so I figured I’d pop on over an see whatcha got.” “Come on in Otis. The heater’s in the basement.” My heart sank as we walked by. I grasp it, and undo it while gazing into your eyes. Your breathing has slowed, you're afraid to move. Down your shirt I go, undoing button after button. After I have finished, I draw you close and kiss you again. Reaching towards your collar bones, I put my palms on your shoulders, and running my hands over your smooth skin, I push your shirt off of you and onto the floor.You are not wearing a bra. Looking down between us, your already erect nipples brushing against my chest, you run your. More

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