Wednesday, September 03, 2014

The first early morning light was chasing night's darkness away. The birds in the courtyard began their morning song. I'm wide awake watching Emile sleep contently, his face peaceful, his gentle snore like the purr of a cat. I look past his furry chest to the window beyond. Emile is unfashionably hirsute, but that's OK, I enjoy running my fingers through his pelt.

Emile is approaching 60 and brags that he weighs only 10 Kilos more than he did when he graduated from college. He is reasonably trim, with a small paunch and love handles. He wears his hair longish and combed straight back with distinct widows peak holding its ground to a receding hairline.

He rolls away from me and I shut my eyes in a futile attempt to get some sleep. When I feel him stir, I watch him till his eyes open, I smile, he smiles. "Bonjour mon petit chaton," he whispers. I snuggle up to him as he rolls on to his back. "You sleep so well, I'm jealous," I tell him. He smiles and shrugs. My hand slips between his legs, Emile likes to start the day with a blow job and I'll accommodate. Before his limp member stiffens, he excuses himself and heads to the toilet. I lay there listening to the morning sounds.

With my cheek resting on his stomach, I take him into my mouth. Besides taking care of his bodily needs, he cleaned his privates, he is considerate. Emile will stiffen but without the little pill won't be hard. He strokes my hair while I suck him and then seconds after the taste of the pre-cum, my mouth fills with his flow. I swallow and look at him with a practiced smile.

Now Wags is demanding attention, as he has business to take care of. Pulling on a pair of shorts and a jersey, I grab my keys, baggies and his leash and head for the door. Wags quickly attended to his needs, but I didn't go back to the apartment. I find the time between getting up and leaving, awkward and Wags provides an excuse to be away. It is a lovely July morning and the streets are empty, but for workers attending to trash and sweeping the sidewalks. We walk a bit and after 40 minutes we return to find Emile gone. There is a note by my bag, "Dinner tonight?" I text him yes.

Drawing a bath, I consider the apartment. It is lovely, large with lots of light. A duplex the living areas on the upper floor with the bedrooms below. The master bath is larger than my living room and would be envied in any mini-mansion built in a corn field. It is so tempting to move in and make this my residence, but that would be ceding too much control.

Wags finds a comfortable spot outside the door and lifts an eye to check on me. Steeping in the bath my fingers find the little button and the ripples of pleasure begin coursing through my body, till a moan and convulsion, send water splashing out the tub. Wags got up to check that I was alright and seeing that I was returned to the carpet.

I try not to leave personal belongings at the apartment so I gather things up, tossing them in a bag. On my return, I'll bring items for this evening and tomorrow. Finding Marty, my Miata, I lower the top and head north.

My apartment is musty from being closed up, so I open the windows and set fans to air it out. I have a business meeting this afternoon, so I select clothes for that and for tonight, something for dinner and something to play in. Heading to my appointment, I text Emile and ask, if rather than going out, would he like me too make us dinner? He replies that he would like that.



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