Page 62 of Full Service

“I’ll be right back,” he says and then gets out of the car, leaving me alone with his phone.

I’m almost positive he left so I could get in some nice shots of my dick.

So I do. I take as many as I can before he returns. And when he does, I hand the phone over, trying to look innocent, but looking more like an eager dog.

Woof. Woof.

“Why are you breathing like that?” he asks, his eyebrows meeting. “You didn’t do something naughty, did you?”

Oh yes, I was very, very bad, but I just shrug like the innocent man I’m not.

I hope he looks at those pictures as soon as he gets home. I want to know that my cock is the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep. I want him to count my cocks like sheep.

“Alright, well, I’ll have to check very thoroughly later, to make sure nothing bad is on here.”

I turn my gaze to the window and smile.

Oh, there are some very naughty things on there, but I won’t say a word about it and neither will he. I hope he keeps them forever. I hope that he looks at them ten years from now and remembers me.

For some reason that thought bothers me more than it should, but I shake it off. Silas is driving me home. This thing between us, these shenanigans, are nothing serious. It’s just a little messing around with the hottie professor.

Nothing more.

I stare at the wet streets as he drives me across town, the tires splashing through puddles as we go. Our places aren’t far from one another, but they’re not close enough to walk. Shame. If I was close enough to walk to his place, I’d be in his bushes, peering through the window like the creeper I’ve become.

I’d fog up the glass, my nose pressed right against the cool panes as I rub one out.

Never thought another person would reduce me to this, but here I am.

Dr. Sinclair does it for me. Big time.

They should write a romance novel about us.

When he finally pulls up to my crumbling place, even in the dark I’m a little embarrassed by my living conditions. But then I see one of my roommates, Murphy, out on the curb, a box in his beefy hands.

I pause a moment before rolling my window down. “Yo, Murph, what’s that?”

“Ah, fuck man, there you are. Been trying to get a hold of you. The roof caved in on me right when I was taking a shit! It’s a mess in there, a real biohazard.”

I stare at him, feeling myself heat in embarrassment. I can’t believe it finally happened. It was sagging after those rainstorms we had, like a pregnant woman about to give birth, but I really tried not to think about it.

I really tried to stay optimistic.

I was manifesting only good things as the plaster strained under the force of the water.

“Why in God’s name is your roof caving in?” Silas asks gruffly, and I turn toward him, feeling my cheeks heat.

“I’m pretty sure our landlord is a slumlord and he’s been neglecting the place for a while. The ceiling’s been sagging since we moved in and the water finally broke it.”

“Unacceptable,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, well, it’s all I can afford.” I run my hand through my hair and then sigh. There’s nothing to be done about it now. Just onward and upward, my best foot forward. Like always. “Anyways. Thanks for the ride.”

I step out, meeting Murphy where he’s standing. “So, like, how bad is it really? Can we stay there still?”

“Fuck no. Everything is wet and the landlord said we can’t move back in, not until it’s fixed.”

“Well, what the hell are we supposed to do then?”