He would accompany his rich friends all over the world, Europe, North Africa, Mexico, pursuing a drug and alcohol stupor with as much drive as the poo... crazy junkies in the Bowery. Only the background changed, albeit spectacularly. Throughout his adventures he clung to fellow artists. He enjoyed their intellectual inebriation thoroughly. He found them in both worlds, the bum and the affluent, though in the affluent world they were more respected, successful artists. She could tell he was a wild. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt showing off his muscular build and a pair of tight black leather jeans. Jill made quick introductions and he and I shook hands. “Jake, see he wore his leather pants for me,” she said. “I remember how much you loved them, so I thought I'd go nostalgic,” he said. “They used to drive me crazy. Hell, they used to drive all the girls crazy.” It was then I noticed the large bulge through his pants. It was big. In fact, it was fucking huge. I was instantaneously. More

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