Shooting Matt

"I'll leave this here on the desk. I'll let you take care of the girlfriend aspect. Email the one you want for your folks and I'll make some adjustments and have a nice print made for you."

I try to ignore the way his cum is softening and running down his side and belly. He's still holding his softening cock. A delicious looking and enticing string of cum hangs from his cockhead. I chide myself for pretending I don't lust after his body. Fucking fraud.

He looks more than a little lost. He finally nods.

"Take your time, Matt." I turn to leave. "Better check your hair in the bathroom mirror, big guy," I offer before closing the door.

I pour a lukewarm cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table. I've finished it before Matt appears in the arched opening to the kitchen. He's been stalling; I'm sure of it. His face is flushed.

"Uh, Mr. B..." his voice fades off. I look at him calmly. He swallows before continuing. "Uh, we cool?"

"Sure, of course." I reassure him, wondering as I say it if it's true.

"Right on. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing, Matt. Nothing. Don't sweat it."

He opens his mouth but closes it without speaking.

"You want a soda or anything? Water? There's a little coffee left but it's not very hot."

"Nah, I'm good." He shakes his head. He leans against the wall. I don't know if he's waiting for me to say something or working up the nerve to say something himself. He sighs and pushes away from the wall. "Well, later then."

"Later. Don't forget to send me the picture you want for your folks."

He nods and turns. A moment later I hear the front door open and close. I let the breath I've been holding all morning shudder its way out of my lungs and drop my head to the cold chipped Formica table top.