I head around to the shop mid morning to get cigarettes and the newspaper. When I get back I'm chatting to David in the kitchen when he says something about the camo pants and red shirt I'm wearing.
"If you went out dressed like that you'd get fisters coming up to you."
Apparently, red is for fisting, which David is into. So is Shane actually. And me, no, I always say to the two of them when they talk about some guy's arse nibbling at their elbow, Whatever happened to a kiss and a cuddle?
David suddenly looked closely at the front of my pants. "What's on your pants?" he asked.
I looked down to see my pants covered in white spray right across the front of them.
"Um." They were the same pants I wore to 80 the night before. "Ah, the lovely James." I smiled and looked back at David. "He sprayed like a fire hose... as he had the most perfect fire hose to spray with." Uncut, slightly thicker in the middle with the most perfect knob sticking out of his foreskin. The type of cock you just want to go down on. The type of penis you want tucked away in your boyfriend's pants.
"I'm going to find him," I said. "Somewhere, sometime, he'll be there." I smiled. "I was stupid not to give him my number last night."
I looked down at my pants and thought that I had better wash them before I go to the shops again. Even if I, really, wanted to keep them just the way they were. I ran my finger tips over the white spray and thought of James, sending my best come hither thoughts to him.
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