As Joey turned out of the parking lot and onto the road home, his cell rang again, the 8-bit sounds barely audible over Portishead’s Glory Box playing over the sound system. Brennan lifts Joey up with one hand, causing Joey to squeal in surprise and admiration, and positions his cock head directly at the entrance to the well-used fuckhole so very recently exposed to the free air. Brennan held their hips together, leaned down, and began to kiss and suck Joey’s face, slurping up the boys come as he did so, Joey still coming and coating their torsos with even more of the sticky white substance. Joey takes his time walking to the desk as Mr. “Let me get that for you.” The words exit his throat without seeming to touch his lips, audible as a soft purr as Joey spoons a liberal amount of greasy-yellow lube from the container onto two digits and slathers it onto Mr. Repeating the process, Joey begins to fuck his teacher slowly.
