The Commander

My hand went to the handle of the Commander, and I ever so slowly pulled it out of Sandy’s arse. In response he went into a frenzy of passion, sucking hard on my cock and writhing under me. Before the Commander was fully extracted, he had ejaculated again, and I took it at the back of my throat, pleased and awed at the stamina of healthy youth.

I released his hands then and knelt between his legs and gave him a proper, expert, total, working-man’s fucking. And he, in turn, gave me the proper lust-released responses for one being well fucked—and now knowing he was well fucked.

* * * *

The next Tuesday afternoon, still employed by Sandhurst, I was standing in the service hall outside Sandy Coleridge’s door when I heard the knock on his main entrance. Sandy walked, gingerly, to the door and opened it.

“Oh, Percy, it’s you,” he said to the one standing at the door, but not given entrance. “You didn’t get my message then.”