He was taking a sip when the door to Doug's apartment popped opened and a bedraggled Doug stepped out, barefoot, rubbing at his face. His jeans looked...like he'd slept in them for the last two days, and his shirt was wrinkled and buttoned up crooked. Robby tried to give him space, but Doug stopped in front of him anyway."Hey, guy! Haven't seen you since the party." His voice cracked and was scratchy, as if wasn't quite up to the task. "How they hangin'?"Robby had always felt that was a rather. “Fuck you!” A mad sugar rush.“Fuck you!” And a sticky embrace.“Fuck… you.” That overloads thought.-Fingers find her dilating asshole. Strum it like a Hendrix riff till she’s singing lyrics of devilish pleasure to the pump of my cock and the squeeze of her cunt.“Fuck,” we harmonize again, racing to an end I can’t describe, until there are no more words to say. They’re just gone, man. It’s rhythm and flow now. It’s rhythm and flow. It’s Kendrick sampling Coltrane sampling volcanic ash sampling. More

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