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Have you seen my socks?

These are the first words I hear as I wake from a strange dream. He sits on the edge of the bed with a look of confusion as though there were some vast sock conspiracy.

I reach out to confirm he’s real. My fingers touch the small of his back and then his cock because it’s not soft.

I yawn out the of a routine that’s not really a routine but a compulsion. I always yawn when I first wake up.

I consider last night as images of my dream merge and blend with images of this guy I’ve just met yesterday.

He finds one sock hiding in his pants leg. The other one must be here somewhere but I’m preoccupied at the moment.

He doesn’t stop me. He moans softly. A flash of a memory from last night comes to me. I feel him pushing. He wants to be deeper into my mouth but I’m not in the mood. I want to enjoy him. I want to savor this moment.

I think I’m working today.

He’s taking to me I believe but it’s uncertain. He could be talking to himself. I do not respond either way because I’m preoccupied.

Sometimes I forget what it’s like to swallow. I get this feeling of not knowing what to expect as I anticipate the moment.

He wants me to finish soon because he’s worried about being late for work. I wonder if he’ll want to shower or if he’ll just use some deodorant to cover the smells of sex. I wonder if we could shower together but then he would definitely be late for work.

He moves me off of him. For a moment I think he’a going to leave at this moment. He finds the other sock behind the nightstand. He moves me like he’s placing the last piece of a puzzle.

I fell his weight pressed against my hips. I feel him push into me. I wonder if he’ll want to stay again tonight.


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