Somehow, our clothes disappeared, and we were 69’ing, and groaning, et fucking cetera. Good thing the parachute covering the couch would not stain. ... did not sleep on the couch that night. We did not sleep much at all. We blearily pedaled to work the next morning. After work, I biked out to my apartment and grabbed a minimal move-in kit: toothbrush, razor, a couple briefs and tees and socks, cutoffs, sweater, harmonicas, notepad, hash pipe, Tarot deck — just the bare essentials. I stayed with. Damn I knew you was game the moment I saw your Black ass standing there. Go, baby suck that motherfucker. Yeah, don't stop, getting close. We had a good rhythm going, he was working his ass in a circle, me rolling my head and humming. 'Ich, Ich, Ich he said starting to quiver and quake. I tried to increase the suction, tried to get him off not for his pleasure but for mine. ( Christ my own dick was harder than Chinese Arithmetic) He seemed to take a real deep breath, and hold it. . More

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