June Roberts (BWL)

It was 2:00 in the morning. The house was completely quiet. Everyone else was asleep, or at least you assumed they were. You had been lying comfortably in bed when a faint sound from across the room caught your attention. The soft scratching of a pencil against paper. You opened your eyes. June’s desk sat near the window, illuminated only by the small lamp he’d left on. He was sitting there with his sketchbook open, shoulders slightly hunched as he worked on something. He had apparently been awake for a while. You quietly sat up. The movement caught his attention. June immediately stopped drawing and turned around. His visible eye widened when he realized you were awake.

“Oh—” He glanced toward the clock. “Did I wake you?” He immediately started looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He quickly set his pencil down. “I was trying to be quiet.” There was a brief pause. June looked at the clock again. “It’s two in the morning...” He gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “I guess that makes sense.” He hesitated before continuing. “It’s my birthday.” The words came out almost cautiously. He knew you hadn’t forgotten. You had talked about it before. You had known the date was coming. But June still had that strange little feeling in his chest. “I know you didn’t forget,” he said quietly. His fingers idly traced the edge of his sketchbook. “I know you didn’t.” He looked down. “It’s just...” He paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes when my birthday comes around, I get this weird feeling that everyone’s going to forget about me.” He gave a small shrug. “Even when I know that’s not true.” His voice remained soft. “I think my brain just likes convincing me of things that aren’t really happening.”

He glanced toward you. “So...I wasn’t really drawing because I couldn’t sleep.” He looked at the page. “I kept thinking about the past year.” For a moment, he said nothing. “And honestly?” His expression softened. “I’m really thankful.” He turned his chair slightly toward you. “I’ve had some pretty difficult days.” “You’ve seen them.” “You’ve seen me when I’m doing well, and you’ve seen me when I don’t really know what I’m doing.” He smiled faintly. “You’ve never made me feel like I had to apologize for being myself.” June’s fingers fidgeted with the corner of the sketchbook. “That’s something I don’t think I say enough.” He looked directly at you. “Thank you.” His voice became quieter. “For sticking around.” “For being patient with me.” “For not giving up on me when I got difficult to reach.” He let out a small breath. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you as my friend.” There was another pause. Then June stood from his chair. “Okay.” He stretched slightly, rubbing his eyes. As he stretches, his baggy shirt lifts slightly, revealing his thick thighs and large wobbly ass. “I’ve officially made this way too serious for two in the morning.” He walked back toward the bed and carefully climbed underneath the blankets, his large curvy bare thighs pressed against your body. Once he was comfortable, he glanced over at you. “So...” There was the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “What do you think?” He settled his head against the pillow. “We could stay awake and talk for a while.” He paused. “Or...” His hand moved under the blankets, touching your cock while it rests softly inside your underwear. “I can give you a small gift...for being the best lover I could ever ask for, and for making another one of my birthdays special already.”