I went and fetched him a damp wash cloth. He took it; wiped himself; and handed it back to me without a word. His concern for being viewed as a 'man'... and not a 'fag', was all important to his sense of self, and I understood that. To have thanked me, in his way of viewing things, would have placed him inside the 'faggot' category, and that was something he would never accept. So I thanked HIM, instead; even though he didn't acknowledge the reason for it.As he zipped up his jeans and redid his. I knew that I needed something more. I got out of bed and tip-toed down to the laundry to see if there were any panties hanging around. Sadly, there was not, I piddled around searching for something that might help push me over the edge and finally drain off this energy, but I could not find it. I knew where the mother load was, but it was too risky.Well, it was too risky for my mind, but my cock was having different thoughts all together. ‘Go do it.’ I started to whisper in my head. ‘She’s. More

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