I felt like I was in school again, enduring another game of keep-away.
"Look, I don't want anything like that," I repeated, "You can stay. I don't care any more. I
just want to keep on being me. Now give it back!"
Runt seemed bored by this answer. He turned my cock over in his hands, gave it a good
rub and said, "Okay."
"What?"
"Hey, all I want is a place to stay. You say I can stay, you can have it back."
He pressed it against my crotch. I felt something melt. When he removed his hand, it was
back where it was, as if it had never gone.
"No, wait" I said, "You've done something."
"What're you talkin' about?"
"You rubbed it. You did something."
"Does it look different to you?"
"No, bu-"
"Does it feel different?"
"No."
"Then what's the problem?"
Runt fell onto the sofa and propped up his feet, ready to sleep. I knew he'd done
something to my cock. I had no idea what it was, but his quickness to retire the subject
said all I needed to know. He knew he wasn't going to have his fun with my permission,
which meant he had to get creative. And I couldn't say anything about it.
Runt quickly feigned sleep, and there was nothing else to do but go back to bed myself.
Nude, I found myself tenderly massaging my cock. It reacted the way it normally did and I
was relieved to have it back. Even when I jerked off it was pretty much routine. I slept
restlessly.