Gays in love

Let me tell you about last week. George was off work with a chest infection. I found it difficult to stay focussed with my work , sick with worry. Monday and Tuesday evenings I slipped into my role as nurse, lovingly rubbbing some Vicks on his chest. Mind you just on the chest, lol. Thankfully the good doctor in Upperhill said it was only a mild infection nothing serious but to hear poor George you’d have thought he was at death’s door. So I played along dispensing large doses of Tamaku's 'medicine' - whisky, crushed ginger, honey from Chyulu hills (the honey from there is the best, I think Kenyan gay bees make it) and some lemon with hot water. Aaaaah. Even Imelda says she’s envious of how I spoil him but he’s all I’ve got so I don’t know how else to be.

Wednesday evening we arranged to meet in town after I’d finished work and then we went for a stimulating aromatherapy massage followed by a session in the steambath. It was the two of us and another youngish shy guy who accidentally let his towel slip to give us a flash of his fine nuggets but we weren’t interested. By this time we were both more than horny so we left the club which is off Loita Street and George drove us home fast via Hurlingham for some Chinese takeaway. When we got home it was after 8, we gave the bags of food to Imelda and said go ahead we’ll eat later. Then we went straight upstairs to our room. Boy, I can’t get enough of my guy and the sex is amazing too. Later I came downstairs and made us some bacon sandwiches because we didn’t feel like eating the noodles. Imelda loved them though.

On Thursday I’d promised George we’d go to the sports club for dinner after work but I completely forgot when meetings overrun. I arrived home after 9pm and there was no-one downstairs so I took my dinner from the oven and had it at the table in the kitchen alone. The house was quiet, I knew Imelda was in her annex probably doing some studying for the accountancy course she's doing. The only other light was in the stairwell from upstairs where I knew George was. When I got to the bedroom he was curled up in bed watching a dvd of Singing In the Rain which was almost coming to an end. He didn’t look too pleased and that’s when I remembered oh shit we were supposed to go out! I said I’m so sorry baby sweetie but he was having none of it, he just turned the other way and said turn the lights off when you come to bed.

I was feeling so guilty as I showered but I shouldn’t have been worried because when I slipped inside the warm bed all was forgiven. Believe me, nothing beats naughty-boy sex. The days when I lived alone and regularly came down with wanker’s cramp are well and truly in the past.