Been busier than usual at work, but now I'm feeling awful neglectful. I'll let you in on a little secret - I've missed you too, Skippy. Thinking all about you when and where I shouldn't.
[not entirely a lie either. if it happens to come up when he's at his desk, watching the line of tim laughlin's neck bent over his paper while he scribbles furiously to take notes, or when he catches the taut indent of firm muscle catches his eye across campus and makes his dick throb fleetingly for the hour when the world is dark to his desires, that's no one's business.
skippy can't see the way his throat swallows hard at the reveal of those pretty, pink little nubs, hand lazily dragging against his own woven, silky tom ford boxers. he knows how sensitive they are considering he's made his boy toy with them at length until he was begging for more. but it's the slash of red his eyes narrow in on, wishing he had more than just curved, 34-inch monitor in hd to see all the details he might otherwise be missing. that dark spot, for example - it should be flattering that none of this is faked for show, and it is.
especially when he would have paid extra for that sweet little sting of fabric smacking against supple flesh.]
Not really much I'd like to see you get into right now in the way of clothes. You'd make a hell of a Calvin Klein model, though.
[body like that and hawk assumes he must be raking in the cash. or is he? and frankly: why should he care in the first place? this is why he doesn't do "entanglements", as marcus has kindly dubbed them. his fingers hover over the keyboard before punching in one-handed:]
Lie back and get comfortable, hm? The best way to please me right now is to get that pretty red nice and wet. Dealer's choice, but I wanna see it clinging to you over every inch - you got that?
no subject
I'll let you in on a little secret - I've missed you too, Skippy.
Thinking all about you when and where I shouldn't.
[not entirely a lie either. if it happens to come up when he's at his desk, watching the line of tim laughlin's neck bent over his paper while he scribbles furiously to take notes, or when he catches the taut indent of firm muscle catches his eye across campus and makes his dick throb fleetingly for the hour when the world is dark to his desires, that's no one's business.
skippy can't see the way his throat swallows hard at the reveal of those pretty, pink little nubs, hand lazily dragging against his own woven, silky tom ford boxers. he knows how sensitive they are considering he's made his boy toy with them at length until he was begging for more. but it's the slash of red his eyes narrow in on, wishing he had more than just curved, 34-inch monitor in hd to see all the details he might otherwise be missing. that dark spot, for example - it should be flattering that none of this is faked for show, and it is.
especially when he would have paid extra for that sweet little sting of fabric smacking against supple flesh.]
Not really much I'd like to see you get into right now in the way of clothes. You'd make a hell of a Calvin Klein model, though.
[body like that and hawk assumes he must be raking in the cash. or is he? and frankly: why should he care in the first place? this is why he doesn't do "entanglements", as marcus has kindly dubbed them. his fingers hover over the keyboard before punching in one-handed:]
Lie back and get comfortable, hm?
The best way to please me right now is to get that pretty red nice and wet. Dealer's choice, but I wanna see it clinging to you over every inch - you got that?