Knock, knock.
Carson tapped on the bathroom door.
"You ready?" Mr. Armisen asked.
Carson didn't say a word.
A short while later Armisen emerged from the bathroom, a white robe around his shoulders, a glass of wine in hand. His long, flaccid cock dangling from his hips like a sword. He furrowed his brow as he hobbled into the dimly-lit bedroom, his ankle still swollen from the fall.
"Carson?" he asked. The boy was nowhere in sight.
He stepped into the living room, which was almost pitch black. Suddenly, the fireplace burst into flame. And there was Carson, standing in the flickering red glow.
"Have a seat," said Carson calmly.
Armisen's mouth opened in surprise. He smiled and slid into an armchair, lifting his heavy feet onto the coffee table. Thud, thud. He crossed his legs and leaned back, his giant dick cast over his thigh like a sleeping dog.
Armisen looked on, scanning Carson's frame. He looked different somehow, his eyes hungrier, but he was dressed the same-except now he was wearing Mr. Armisen's red baseball cap, perched like a crown on his head.
Armisen began to take off his glasses.
"No, no," said Carson. "Leave them on. You're not gonna want to miss the show."
Armisen smirked and sipped on his wine, his thirst only growing. The log in his lap swelled and fell, sighing deeply.
Carson stood on top of the coffee table, and for the first time Armisen had to tilt his head to see him. With one flick of his wrist, slow, sexy RnB music came oozing out of the TV. Carson tossed the remote aside.
He started to move his hips and roll his shoulders, running his hands over his shirt. He had done this a million times for his ex, throughout his days in the burlesque club in college. He was a regular Magic Man by this point.
Armisen watched, transfixed, a rare look of surprise spreading over his bearded face.
"That's hot," said Armisen. "That's fucking hot."
Carson slowly lifted the coconut oil jar and lubricated his hands. He rubbed his arms and shoulders until they gleamed with grease. Then he raised his tank top, teasing Armisen with his navel.
"Do it," said Armisen, breathlessly. "Take it off." The beast in his lap stirred.
Carson was a good obedient boy. He lifted his tank and tossed it aside, slathering his chest and stomach with oil.
"You've been so generous with me this weekend," he said, his voice dry and emotionless.
"You've been a good boy for Daddy," said Mr. Armisen. "You deserved it."
"Bought me these nice-ass clothes," Carson said, turning around to bend over, presenting his tight ass for Mr. Armisen's pleasure.
The man sat up in his chair and let out a shaky sigh. He reached out to touch Carson. The boy swatted his naughty hand away.
