Maybe it's his own post-war stress coming out to play, but there's a definite soft, almost floating feeling somewhere in his chest. He's not overwhelmed, except in the best possible way and it's an effort not to get too lost in it. If he's very lucky he'll be permitted to do this again and again. There's a greedy little part of his heart that wants to keep at this until he really can let go and just drift.

When his lover comes, he swallows down without any complaint and keeps his now soft prick warm in his mouth until he's told to do otherwise.