It only took a few minutes to finish. I knocked on his door and he answered in a really nice button down shirt and crisp, tight jeans.“Come on in”...He said in a deep, husky voice.I walked in and slowly grazed his front. He was solidly built. Very muscly. I walked to his open living room and sat on his couch. There were many boxes around and the tv was balancing on two boxes.“Sorry about the mess. I’m just moving in.”“It’s fine. I understand. I’m gonna be moving out soon too.”“Ah. You live with. The name of the station or the particular line of travel is not important and we will dispense with such tomfoolery because it is not in the least bit relative to our story. I have recently read a supposed fictional book of mystery that was so dedicated to describing this station and that station and the exact times and the number of passengers as well as points of interest along the route that I despair of such tricks of “filling the pages” with trivia unnecessary to the plot.I will admit. More

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