When my Sir – I call him Sir because I respect him – comes home from working hard all day, I feel it is my obligation to guide him to back to sanity. He works in the emergency room of our county hospital, dealing with things I can’t even begin to imagine. Home is his sanctuary, so it’s inconsiderate to bother him immediately with annoying things from my day or to pester him helplessly that I’m hungry. I take initiative around here. I make dinner and keep the house clean so all he has to do is come through the door, accept his plate and his glass of wine, undo his tie, and sink into his favorite chair.

I’ll often rub his shoulders or his feet as well. Sometimes, when he’s finished he sets the tray aside, leans back, and undoes his pants for me. I take the hint immediately and blow him for dessert.

I know my Sir. I can tell by the tone of voice when he calls me, or texts me, that sometimes he needs something more than just being spoiled during dinner.

He’ll come home, exhausted after a brutal shift, headachy from florescent lights and a belly full of greasy cafeteria pizza and energy drinks. He’ll climb the stairs like it’s Mt. Everest, dragging his feet. The look of sheer appreciation when he comes through our bedroom door and finds me spread open and anticipating his cock makes my crazy happy. He just groans, so grateful I read his mind. My ass is his, my balls are full for him, all he has to do is grab the lube and bury his meat between the cleft of my ass. Instant stress relief, just insert tab a into slot b. He’ll pound out all his frustrations and failures of the day away and shoot the negative energy out into a condom. I always discard it with a smirk.

Yup, I definitely know what my Sir needs and desires. They say he has the lowest fatality rate in his ER, despite how over-worked and fatigued he often gets. His co-workers think of him as a god-like figure, the master of the crash cart, the wizard of intubation. Let them wonder. I’m sure they’d be surprised to know that it is a naked boy who aurifies Dr. Ashcroft’s talent for medicine.

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Text is fictional. Source is an original photo by inside-the-wardrobe. I have notified him that I am using his photo for a caption.