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I hit the canvas with a few more strokes on the wordTHENmaking it a little more abstract.
Riff came out of the bedroom.
Wearing pajama pants.
Nothing else.
And by nothing else, I meantnothing else.
Not wearing a shirt. Muscles beginning to wake up. Flex. Tighten.
Show off.
Then there was something else.
When Riff walked, his cock swayed in his pajama pants like the trunk of an elephant. Pressing against the pants. The wordbulgewasn’t good enough. It was like a monster in a lake, teasing the surface, causing ripples…
I swallowed hard and looked at the canvas again.
I’m just riding the emotional high of everything, that’s all.
It had been quite a series of events - dinner with Remi and Riff there.
I reached for my coffee and took a sip.
It had turned room temperature.
Bleh.
From the corner of my right eye I watched as Riff began to walk my way.
My brain threw this scene of him walking up to me and touching under my chin. Tilting my head back. Him bending forward to kiss me. A super slow and soft kiss. His tongue moving so gently, caressing my tongue.
Then I’d drop my paintbrush and touch that massive bulge in his pants…
“Morning, Fi,” Riff’s voice said.
I cleared my throat. “Morning. Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nope.”
“I don’t even have mycrappymusic playing today,” I said with a smile.
“See, that’s the first problem.”
“Oh, there’s problems?”
“Big problems, Fi. But luckily, I’m here to help.”
I started to laugh but caught my laughter in my throat.
I made some kind of sound that was half frog and half squeak.
The look in Riff’s eyes… it was scary.
Very scary.
But not a bad or dangerous scary.
