Coffee and Cream

He laughed. "Tell you what," he said, "invite me back and I'll do that for you any time."

"Is that a promise?" I reached under his balls and stuck a finger in his tender asshole.

His eyes widened. "Shit... Do that some more and I'll promise you anything."

I pushed in deeper, working his prostate. "An unlimited supply of free drink cards?"

"Uhh... Oh yeah." His breath quickened. "Fuck me again, Steve."

I was rock hard again. "What the hell." I reached into the box on the floor and quickly sheathed myself with a fresh rubber. I lifted his hips and guided his butt down onto the pole jutting from my lap.

"Free refill," I joked as I slid my cock into him. That was the last time I thought about coffee that day.

It's been months since I took that walk to the cleaners. I got a new treadmill for my apartment and gave up my neighborhood wanderings. I still stop by the coffeehouse, but I see Greg at my place a lot too. Thanks to him, my arms look pretty good, though not as good as his.

"It makes perfect sense that we got together," I said to him the other day in bed.

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, for months you gave me hot liquid every time you saw me. All we did was turn symbolism into reality."

Greg cracked up. "Steve, you're crazy. Crazy but nice." He drew me close with his arms. "Hot and strong, too."

Like a good cup of coffee, I thought, as I lost myself in the comfort of his body.

END