I stand from the bed and stare down at my tented joggers. This is not going to do. I can’t go to Café Peppermint with my dick leading the way. They’ll never let me return. So I grab a pair of jeans from my closet and slip off my joggers, say a quick hello to my erection—looking painful, my guy—and slip my jeans on, sliding my dick carefully against the more restrictive fabric.
