Tommy didn’t fuck. He didn’t even make love. Tommy didn’t even try. For some reason that I was never made privy to, my six-foot-one,...alpha-male, football playing boyfriend had no interest in me sexually. Despite his machismo, and my carefully toned collage cheerleader body, Tommy couldn’t have been bothered to give two shakes of a half-stiff cock for me, or my tight ass, or my double-d’s. It’s been my pet theory that I was just his beard, but I never asked. ’ I did as he asked, crawling on my knees to the couch until my head was over his crotch. He smelled spicy and musky, a smell that I now associated with sex. As my face hovered over his crotch, he reached up with one hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair. With the other hand, he aimed his cock upward, pointing it at my mouth. Slowly, almost teasingly, he pushed my head downward, milking the long shaft of his cock as he did it. I watched a shiny drop of precum appear just before the head of his. More

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