There were secret touches from the backseat on our drive to Lincoln Center. Fingers sent fluttering over the part of my throat Cole loved to sink his teeth into. A hand fondling my clothed cock, a thumb running along my waistband, tugging as if saying, “I need this the fuck off now…” And all those torturous touches made to my body were made by my own hand as I pretended Cole wasn’t suffering as he watched from the seat next to me. I kept at it in the dimly lit audience, my eyes fixed on the performance. At one point I turned to Cole, who couldn’t keep his eyes off me, and seductively bit my
...more
