There was an old, four-poster bed and a rotted side table next to it. There was a mini fridge that I knew the guys had backed with liquor and when she...sat down, I got out a bottle of wine and two paper cups. I sat beside her and poured her a glass, thinking to myself, ‘Like you really need anything else to drink, honey.’ ‘What’s your name?’ I asked softly, able to talk at a normal level now the thumping speakers weren’t in the same room. She looked at me, her cup to her lips and then she. Hadn't she said she had done it once? Why wouldn't she do it again then? Each night he had thought more deeply about her compelling confession, and each night he'd grown more curious about it. Alone in his bed with nothing but lascivious thoughts filling his young head, he'd had no choice but to take his thickly swollen penis consolingly in his hands. And the more vivid his imagination became, the more pleasure he found there was to be had in his solitary activity. Sometimes he would try to. More

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