I was normally scrambling for his attention. He was usually aloof. Today I didn't feel like it. In fact I resented him for it. I'd had a shit day with...about fifty things gone wrong and I wanted to be alone."Not talking to me, then?" he quizzed. "Nope," I answered. "Alright." He went upstairs and I heard him turn the water on. Of course I thought about him in the shower, how his body would look, if his chest was as perfect as it looked under his business shirts. Whether he was well endowed. . I recalled, more recently, a reverie of how we made love on a piano. One of my favorites. I remembered how he described every detail of how he would pleasure me with his tongue and it only set off a chain reaction of digging up more memories of him.I filled my head with reminisence of how he would sound when he said my name aloud and how he would practically beg for me to cum at times. How I would watch him intently as he laid back, closed his eyes and enjoyed stroking himself to thoughts of. More

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