I grinned a half-grin and nodded, sipping my coffee. "Anything, huh?" You bet...." Well I can't guarantee anything. I have 6 more interviews set up....." Oh, whatever, I understand...." Well then, why don't you go over and lock the front door by turning that latch under the bar and then come back in and suck my cock." I looked directly at him.His eyes widened and he laughed. "Really?" Mmm-hmm." I said, letting my hand fall to my crotch and my thumb began to brush my hardening prick in my. AndSundays -- oh, this time of year, Sundays are meant for fog seeping itsdrizzling rain, days to wonder if the dim chill of isolation will evercome to an end. To soak in a hot tub, until steam fills the room and Ican't see myself in my mirror. Wondering when incompletedness will beresolved, when that part of me that now seems to be dying off will dropaway and I will at last clearly emerge. I as I was maybe. Or I as I am tobe. On Sunday, I remember (as I was taught so long ago) that it is. More

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