Chapter 95: A new record
Andrew had never felt so exhausted in his whole life.
He lay on the bed at this point, hos body unable to hold himself up. Maxwell was a giggling fool beside him, all bright blue eyes curled into beautiful crescents, soft touches and pure, male pride.
He was cocky, and Andrew couldn’t deny it. He had every right to be so.
Andrew had thought that he had milked Maxwell in the bathroom. He had been very, very wrong. Milking? He had no understanding of the word. He’d been a fool, thinking he was a dairy farmer, when in fact, he owned one fucking cow.
Maxwell? Maxwell was a dairy farmer. And the giggling warmth pressed against his side had earned that title.
"You did such a good job, Andy. You came 12 times. That’s amazing. Are you doing okay? Could you go another round?" The man asked with plump, swollen lips. Andrew worried that he was in pain, but instead he seemed invigorated. Andrew was worried even more.
He knew that Maxwell had cum a few times, but not anything powerful like Andrew liked to give to him. But Maxwell had been insistent that he was okay. That this was pleasurable to him. That might have been true, and that was fine, but this?
Maxwell’s lips would be swollen for days.
"Hey...Max? I know you said something about this recently, but did you ever end up checking if your...heat was coming up?" Andrew asked softly. He wasn’t sure how Maxwell took talking about his heat. He’d so far noted that he was pretty casual about it, but until it was approaching and Maxwell was actually in it, he couldn’t know.
His Mom had hated talking about her heat. She never did with Andrew, unless it was coming right away and she’d forgotten it. That was when she hid herself away from him for about a week, made sure he had food and money in case anything happened while she was gone, and dealt with it herself.
He never wanted Maxwell to feel like he had to do the same, so he needed to broach this carefully.