“We didn’t hit any gay clubs, yet you copped off with … how many guys?” “Two or three.” Five. “But how many did I get?” “Guys?” He snorted. “Fuck off. Not once. Not even a look in.” “You’re getting old. Losing your skills.” “Fuck off. I’m twenty-eight, and I’m younger than you.” “Are you going to get all melon – melly – sad on me?” “Answer my question. Do you think I’m hot?” “Huey …” “No, mate, I’m serious.” He jumped up and stood in front of me, pushing the coffee table – and my pizza – out of reach. “What the fuck, man?” “Seriously. Am I hot?” “I really don’t -” That’s when something a bit weird happened. I’m not sure in what order. It could’ve been simultaneously. His hands went to his chest and he pulled his shirt up over his head, throwing it down onto the sofa next to me. It landed with a soft whoosh of his aftershave. The second thing was that I started to get hard. Like I said. Pretty much simultaneously. I swallowed, suddenly unsure where to put my eyes. “You’re supposed to. "Especially"she added, "when I had to watch my best girlfriend suck you dry!" Shewinked at me, and I felt good being able to make her a bit jealous and,no doubt, horny.Mark got up and brought Paul a beer, as if they were congratulating eachother. Leanne and I looked at each other in amazement. "Aren't we goodenough to rate another beer?" she asked. Mark mumbled his apologies andreturned with two more for us. It was another insightful moment of theexposed male psyche. Neither of us really wanted the beer, but wesipped it for the show of it. I was still savoring the taste of Pauland didn't want it to go away. I wondered whether that made me a slut,as I dabbed the wetness between my legs unobtrusively. Paul handed me the dice and said, "It's your turn Bobby Sue." Don't call me that!" I said as I took the dice. Everyone chuckled. Iactually liked it!I rolled a twelve and the unseen hand pushed my figure ahead of thepack. In the Slits window appeared: Now whipped cream you've.
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