John headed towards a black sports car, with gleamy rims, and Dave followed him. “Don’t you have a car?” John asked as he took his keys out of his jean’s pocket. “It’s in the shop,” Dave said dully as he flipped his blonde bangs off of his face. “What’d you do? Crash it?” John asked laughing. “Actually yes,” Dave smiled, and they laughed. They got into the car, and John started up the engine. “Where do you live Kennedy?” “East meadow court.” John nodded, turned on the radio, and took off fast. Dave flew back in his seat, and it took him a second to get his breath back. He looked over at John. His hands had a firm grip on the wheel making his muscles pop out, and his tight shite shirt only accentuated his muscles even more. His black hair was still wet, and hung lazily over his face. ‘John looks tough,’ Dave thought to himself. ‘Strong and tough.’ Dave’s mind started to wonder and he started thinking about more premisculous stuff. How he would love to have John take advantage of. ‘You, stud,’ she said, her voice low, throaty, sexy, placing a hand on his thigh and moving it in small massaging circles inching upward to his cock. Eddie’s prick was instantly alert, the bl**d racing to engorge it, his scrotum tightening below, as her hand caressed him, making him feel that he was in some kind of weird dream. It couldn’t be reality. How could reality be his boss’s wife sitting at a booth in a cocktail lounge massaging his cock to a throbbing, jerking, almost instantaneous erection when he hardly knew her? ‘Me? Are you sure?’ he said stupidly with the excitement rising in him. ‘I mean, you’re Clay’s wife and all …’ Her eyes rolled upward and she stated coolly. ‘Clay and I are adults. He has his affairs and I have mine. The arrangement works out beautifully.’ ‘But what about the videotape?’ he asked. ‘Don’t worry about it, there’s a lot of tape floating around the club that has nothing to do with poor volleying on the part of the new students. There are.
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