This morning the bedroom was awash with light. We’d overslept, and last night we’d not thought to close the curtains. I lay in bed remembering the pleasures of last night: Logan making me a very special “tea” and then the way he painted my toenails. I can see getting my toenails painted at least once a week. Other parts of me might need painting too!

I looked over at Logan, on his back, still asleep, his cock pointing straight up. I wondered if he was dreaming about me. I couldn’t resist leaning over and taking that beautiful cock in my mouth. He awoke with a start.

“Good morning,” I said. “Were you dreaming about me?”

He blushed.

“Tell me,” I insisted.

“I don’t remember,” he said.

“Jeepers, you could have made something up.”

“Yes, I was dreaming about you!”

“Too late now, buddy boy.”