Beautiful readers, this chapter as well as the others I'll be posting to other stories this week would've been posted last, but natural disasters wreak amazing havoc on daily life. I'm assure you, I am safe and well, only a little rattled. But finally, internet service has been restored and I can post my wonderful naughtiness for all to see. Love and special touches. DD

Connor's breathing deeply, just short of snoring, already asleep…the butthole. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out like a burnt bulb on the Vegas strip. It's one of the reasons he's such a morning person. The jerk.

His arms are warm and heavy across my chest, his breath breaking along the line of my neck, giving me goose bumps. The sensation is running a path down my torso and spine, settling harshly in my neglected groin.

Seriously, I'm beyond blue-balls. They're magenta. What the fuck, man? I can't believe it, he totally cock-blocked me. I know he was into it, if the missile silo in his pants is anything to go by but all I got was a lame excuse about cum-stained jeans and needed sleep for the long day tomorrow.

I'm not pissed, per se…Scratch that. I'm utterly pissed. I sucked him off this morning with thorough enjoyment on both sides, but alas the fuck-nut timing of family dinner totally fucked my nut, man. Okay, no big deal, but we finally get some more time alone together and he bails? What the hell, dude?

Little Colt's in pain, man. Serious pain and I couldn't even muster enough balls, because they're all but imploding right now, to tell him to take care of fucking business, like he promised. Asshole.

Okay, that's a bit harsh, but I'm hurtin' like a son-of-a-bitch here. Yes, I was hoping for a good ol' fashioned adolescent sex-fest, but would've been quite happy with a good ol' fashioned adolescent suck-fest. I mean we've been taking it slow, agonizingly slow and I'm over it.

But why can't I tell him that? Because I'm a fucking pussy, that's why. Because if I push him, he'll fucking leave me. If he wanted a whiny bitch, he'd just get a girlfriend.

Christ, it's stifling in here. Connor's heavy weight and hot breath, normally wanted and comforting, is almost suffocating. I need space.

Holy Jesus-sticks, Con's arm is fucking heavy. How the hell does he carry this thing, let alone the other one on his either of his shoulders. Really his knuckles should be dragging the ground. I can hardly move the damn thing.

If I can just…shift his…arm down…Oh, fuck! Hardwood and ass cheeks! OW!

I hiss, choking back the exclamation bubbling in my throat. My ass hurts and not for any good reason; damn it. This fucking sucks.

Connor's still sleeping soundly, only shifting slightly with the absence of my form. The door doesn't make a sound thankfully, while the floorboards outside are another story. Damn insipidly loud creaky piece-of-shi-

"Colt?" His sleepy voice is too damn sexy. It's kind of pissing me off a bit. "Little Dude, what are you doing?"

I can't quite think clearly, especially with him all shirtless and sexy and…goddamn my dick hurts.

I could just attack him, but then it's a matter of whether to spew forth the hormone-fueled, pent-up sexually frustrated rampage in words or inappropriate touching. "Gotta pee. Go back to sleep."

"Oh, okay," he yawns, flooding my mind's eye with a bunch of impotent promises, before swinging his still jean-clad legs across the bed, "Me, too. I'll follow you."

Ugh. Do I need a bathroom buddy? "Just use the one downstairs." Okay, yes. I'm a whiny bitch. I can't even mask it anymore. As an afterthought, to soften the sting and save a little face, I add, "So you don't have to wait."

Connor's brow quirks, gazing at me in sleepy confusion, "Okay…You all right?"

I can't stop the sigh but thankfully it sounds more tired than exasperated. If it wasn't for their swollen state, I would doubt the very existence of my own testicles. "Yeah, just tired."

Why does he have to look like that when he walks toward me, with the lack of shirt and abundance of muscle and…FUCK! I need an orgasm. This isn't healthy for a boy my age. I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that back-up sperm causes lunacy, or leprosy. Who cares, either way I'm losing shit that I consider important.

His skin is soft and warm, stroking my cheek in the gloomy darkness, his form only lit by the blue haze of my alarm clock. "You sure?"

"Yeah…"

When he kisses me, it's warm and enticing. Just as always I almost become lost in it, until the painful twitch of my neglected cock reminds me that he's being a fucking prude. Unintentionally, I abruptly pull away with a mumbled excuse and stride toward the bathroom, making sure to gently close the door.

With my ear pressed to the white wood, I listen intently for his footsteps. Each paces softly down the hall, pausing momentarily in front of my hiding spot. (I always sucked at hide-n-seek; always the first one found and unable to find anyone else.) A second later, Connor steps away as an air of worried defeat breaks against the other side of the door.

Yeah, I think the Guild of Manhood will require the relinquishment of my balls tomorrow morning. I wonder if I'll lose the deposit due to discoloration.

Something's wrong. Little Dude's acting strange. He's obviously upset, the distended sighs and curt responses. I'm not stupid, but I don't understand.

Hell, he's still sporting a pretty decent hard-on but he nearly ran away when I kissed him. And I know he's camped out on the other side of that damn bathroom door. I've been able to head all the way downstairs, piss, wash my hands and get a drink of soda before heading back up the stairs. He's still not done taking a leak?

I may be pretty but that doesn't mean I'm dumb. But what can I do?

The bed is cold without him.