Two-thirty am flashed at him in the form of bright red numbers. He ran his hand over his unruly dark hair and sighed. He’d had the dream again…fla...hes of violence and that cold dark room playing over and over through his brain. Andrew tried so hard to suppress the memories of his past during the day, but the night brought them back so that they were always present, just behind the invisible shield of his sanity. He swung his feet to the cold floor of his small San Francisco apartment and padded. He went straight for my throat as I was prepared, with a hold to boot. One that he was not ready for and he got grip upon my head; grasped with full futility at my cropped black hair as he fought to get that cockhead free so as to pump it to my face. I did finally relinquish his cock to his will and then took every shove, thrust and pummel he chose to deal. “Fuck yeah buddy! you came along at the right time!” He said with a zeal that made me chuckle. “Just in time to suck my cock like I been. More

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