S on a stick
Gene closed his eyes in trepidation and fear. He shouldn't do this. It was wrong. But Sam hadn't wanted him to do it as well, so, obviously Gene would have to contradict him.
Later, he went inside, and finally, with the chalk-white cylinder of sexiness and shame between his fingers, he ran one normally violent digit up its spine. Well, if it had one, anyway. He caressed it smoothly, gulping slightly when he heard it crunch slightly. Christ!
But, a quick check-up and all was fine. He had to finish this. It would be a waste of time, with all this foreplay, not to.
But still, it was hard. All Gene had to was put it to his lips and it would all be over.
Sam was watching him from above, amused.
"For God's sake, Gene!" He gasped. " Just do it!"
Scowling, Gene took one last hopeful look, but by god, he couldn't deny this. His feelings were too strong now. It was betraying his wife, but she wasn't here, was she?
Finally, surrendering to inner temptation, Gene shoved it in his gob and lit up another bloody fag.
