Interrupt Peter

"Hey, Peter," you yawn. Your voice startles him, and he nearly drops the tube top he's holding.

"Oh! Good morning," he replies. His voice is higher and breathier than it was back in his fully-male days, and his pumped-up lips give him a signature lisp.

"I'm feeling a little stiff," you continue, throwing off the covers. Mike murmurs something in his sleep and rolls over, but doesn't wake up. "Come warm me up, will you?"

Peter hesitates, watching as you stroke yourself a few times. "I just have to pick out something to--"

"It's gonna be a nice day. Just go topless."

He nods reluctantly, then makes his way back towards the bed. You both know full well that if he goes to the office without a shirt, he'll get twice as much attention and half as much work done. His superiors never seem to mind, though, and so you've made it a fairly regular occurrence.

Peter crawls up between your legs, and you reach down to run your fingers through his long, flowing hair. "Deep and messy, please. I want it soaking."

He merely grunts in reply before taking your swollen head between his pillowy lips, flicking his tongue as inch after inch slides in. Before you know it you're squeezing into his throat, and soon after your entire length is buried inside your friend's father.

He's had plenty of practice taking care of your morning wood, so he has little trouble working his way up and down your shaft. A trickle of drool begins to escape his lips, and a few thrusts later both his lips and your cock are coated in a thick layer of spit and precum.

You let him go on for a few minutes before interrupting. "Okay, okay, I don't want to make you late again."

Peter leans back and releases your hard-on, ignoring the mess that splatters down his chin and onto his cleavage. "Should I finish you, or..?"