The Breakfast of Champions

The next morning was livened up by May deciding I wasn’t going anywhere until I’d fucked her again and not being up to arguing, I really did have to agree with her.

As the great James Hunt said, sex is indeed the Breakfast of Champions.

With our hangovers sated by a completely gratuitous fuck and half a packet of Nurofen, washed down by copious amounts of tea, we emerged blinking into the daylight.

May said that she would love to ask me if we could go back to the sugarbowl, but that as her next job was as a senior nurse manager at a hospital in Yorkshire, it might be a bit tricky.

I had to agree, so we settled on meeting up every month or so, when she came to London. I promised to put her up in a hotel, take her shopping and we’d just aim to have a bit of fun, which for the two of us together is never very difficult!

We parted with as the good friends and fuckbuddies we’d been before.

An hour later I was in a partners’ meeting, with an inane grin and a lingering, slight headache. I simply couldn’t get out of my head the image of her cowgirling me, shouting “I love your cock Daddy”…

3 thoughts on “The Breakfast of Champions

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