Skin like chamois that disappears all the way down the crack in his arse. Don’t you like them fast, hard and fast. Willing to let it all hang out to pass the time in the day. Something to do so boredom doesn’t take them away. Not minding where they leave their card, or their scent by the yard. In your yard, on your furniture, kitchen bench, after the two of you have sparred. All the more fun to remember their claim, on your life and your time, it isn’t a crime to want to indulge in the pleasures of the sublime. It’s friendly, it’s nice, it’s what gives life spice. Let go, drop your trousers, and take it slow, if that is really the way you have to go.