.. a hand on my hip ... no, not a hand... Bobby’s hand. I don’t know why I knew it was Bobby’s hand, but I just felt it.I went to his room, wher... he had elected to sleep on a mattress on the floor. He said it reminded him of his cell back at St. [redacted].He was asleep. I felt his hand move up my side. It was crazy.“Bobby!” I said, loudly.The hand vanished as he lifted his head.“Huh?” he asked, obviously groggy. “What’s wrong?”“I think you were dreaming,” I said.“What?” He sat up. It was warm. My girlfriend has a lot of the same ones on hers.” “What are you doing?” “Trying to find out who owns this.” “Ah.” Paul continued to fumble with the tablet while Lucas untied his tie and drank his beer. The news droned on in the background, but neither man paid it much attention. Paul tapped Lucas on the shoulder and said, “I think she’s a writer, man.” “Oh?” “Yeah. Her poetry isn’t much, and there are a few unfinished stories, but this piece, this got my dick hard.” Lucas laughed.. More

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