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Till Sunday
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Till Sunday
He stood staring at the computer screen, contemplating who to tell. His fingers hovered above the keys on his keyboard, sweat on his brow, his pants tight and his boyhood (for it was small) throbbing within his pantaloons. There was only one person he could tell. One person that he could trust with this task. There could only be one. One dark, brooding lord on his throne. One person who ruled them all, one person who found them, one person to inform them all and in the knowledge drown them.
His skype tabbed to the contact named Blue, and he began to type. The sentence took an eternity to write, the sweat from his brow dripping down his back, resting betwixt his ample cheeks. With the final stroke of his finger, the conversation began.
And it was done. The young man lifted himself from the seat and headed to his shower, hand gripping his genitalia. He had accomplished his mission, and with his goal satisfied he meant to sate another need he had recently acquired, for Blue's presence was mightily arousing, his musk decadent and oppressive so much that it reached through skype and wrapped its hands around his throat, gently massaging the muscles when suddenly, it squeezed. He coughed from the power of the metaphor.
He was under the influence of a drug. A drug with the street name... Blue.
His skype tabbed to the contact named Blue, and he began to type. The sentence took an eternity to write, the sweat from his brow dripping down his back, resting betwixt his ample cheeks. With the final stroke of his finger, the conversation began.
Destiny wrote:[1:00:53 PM] Sun Tzu, King of Footstools: Can you do me a favir? Leaving soon to go camping and would like if someone posted for me. Gone til sunday
[1:01:05 PM] Blue: K
[1:01:20 PM] Sun Tzu, King of Footstools: Thx bb
And it was done. The young man lifted himself from the seat and headed to his shower, hand gripping his genitalia. He had accomplished his mission, and with his goal satisfied he meant to sate another need he had recently acquired, for Blue's presence was mightily arousing, his musk decadent and oppressive so much that it reached through skype and wrapped its hands around his throat, gently massaging the muscles when suddenly, it squeezed. He coughed from the power of the metaphor.
He was under the influence of a drug. A drug with the street name... Blue.
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