Sex Shop Foot Job
 

Sex Shop Foot Job

With almost two third of the Spring done and dusted, Melbourne's weather remained atrocious, which curtailed my outdoor excursions with Daniel. With blasting wind and savage rain, the thought of dropping one's trousers in a foetid alleyway did not appeal to either of us.
The following weekend, I decided to visit the State Library and conduct research for my doctoral thesis, which involved transcribing data from documents over 100 years old that had never been previously published. The data would then be analysed for trends that supported my working theory. A tedious, thankless task for most people but not for me, and the work kept me from thinking about my cock for several hours.
With a coat and scarf tightly wrapped around me, I exited my place. Twenty minutes later, I hopped on a tram that deposited me outside the enormous granite structure that houses Victoria's impressive library collection. As usual, I had to battle my way past the typical array of soap-dodging social justice morons to get inside.
Several hours later, I had a thirst for beer and considered wrapping up for the day. It was a surprise then when I received a text from Daniel.
"What are you up to?" He asked.
"Not a great deal," I responded before explaining why I was at the State Library.
"The missus is out with friends this evening, so I wondered if you fancied a beer?"
"Sure, sounds good."

"Okay, let's meet at Young