Clean Up

The next morning you reflect upon what happened the days before. It seems to me like Bob really enjoys being the teasing submissive. Maybe even as much as I enjoy being the authoritative dominant. I'll try to push him hard today to see how he reacts.

You're about to head over for your reward when Bob sends you a text:

• Bro, we're gonna have to postpone until later. Mom just called. She's coming back tomorrow. I need to clean -

You type your response without thinking:

• I'll come over and help. We'll do it twice as fast :) -

You can't help but feel depressed when you put your phone down. Soon, your amazing summer will be cut short. What does this mean for you and Bob? Are you just going to try and forget everything that happened? You push the disquieting thoughts from your mind. Tomorrow you will answer these questions; tonight you will ignore them completely.

Bob has a relieved smile when you shake hands. "Thanks for coming, bro."

"No need, bro. I've practically lived here with you this month. It's the least I can do."

You start upstairs with the bedroom, splitting the work so that one is vaccuming while another dusts. Quickly, you make your way through the rooms, using your teamwork to your advantage. In the master bedroom, you get up on the bed as you try to reach a sneaky spider who has made a web on the ceiling, while Bob moves all the furniture so he can clean behind it.

An hour later, you're finished with the second floor and ready to head down to the living room, where things get much more difficult. Despite your protests ('It's 90 fucking degrees outside!'), Bob insists on opening all the windows so that it stinks less from all your smoking. Your shirts are soon off as you start sweating, and you curse as you find it harder and harder to keep your eyes on the task at hand. At one point, you nearly drop a vase when you turn around to find Bob's tight ass in the air as he reaches for something beneath a cabinet. When you get up to the couch, you can't help but smile and think back to all the games you played, and all the cum you shot. You kneel down and examine the material, but thankfully you don't find any stains.

Your throat is so dry when you let him know, that you decide to visit the kitchen for a drink. Grabbing two beers from the fridge, a dirty thought sneaks in as you find Bob facing away from you. Sneaking up on him, one beer in each hand, you slip your arms under his and slam the ice-cold cans into his nipples.

"AH!" He screams as he jumps up from the shock.

"Gotcha!"

You decide to take a break, collapsing on the sofa as Bob switches on the TV. As you recline, you can't help but notice the way he's moving the cigarette back and forth between his lips. A minuscule gesture, but enough to **** you to awkwardly readjust yourself. We've only been together a month, and the horny tease already knows what makes me tick. Wait. 'You've been together for a month?'

"C'mon, breaks over," He turns off the TV as his smoke burns down to the filter, "Basement next, then the lawn."

The basement proves to be the most challenging, with lots of heavy crap that needs to be moved around. Your muscles burn from the effort, the whole room closer to a gym in your mind. Why did we bother moving all this shit in the first place? You sit down on the cold floor when it's over, chest heaving from the effort. The whole room stinks of your sweat, though some part of you finds it arousing. You feel a hard clap on the chest from your giddy friend.

"What's the matter? Big boy needs another break?" You nod, your gaze traveling down his ripped form. Unlike Bob, you never gave enough of a shit about the girls to bother working out, but for the first time you regret it.

Another beer, another smoke, and you're back to work. Bob fires up the lawnmower as you find the hose and turn on the water. You travel diligently around the house, making sure you water every plant Bob's mother has planted. The scorching heat exhausts you more than the work-out, and as you complete your circle around the house you notice the same thing with Bob, who's wiping his forehead every time he turns around with the mower. The sweat is coming out of every pore of his body, making his abs shine just like his cum did the other day.

"Whew, all done!" He calls as he shuts off the engine. "I don't know about you man, but I could sure use a shower."

Not even pausing to think, you blast him with the garden hose, soaking his tight shorts until they become see-through.

"Turn around, let me get your back!"

Bob stands there for a second in shock, then charges you, knocking you down to the ground as you playfully fight for the weapon. You shut it off laughing when you're both soaked to the bone. The two of you just lie there in amicable silence for the next half hour, first letting the sun dry you off and then watching the sun set together. Soon Bob starts to shiver, and you both head inside, taking turns under a real shower.