" Yeah. That and to get you fucked." That was gross when he started spitting! For some reason that grossed me out more than when you piss down my thro...t!"I laughed and said, "One reason is that it turns you on when I piss down your throat. It doesn't gross you out." What would happen if I went there alone?" You'd be on that table until the bar closed. Then you'd probably end up living with one of them and fucking anyone that wanted you until you were worn out. You'd be hooked on drugs and. No, you wouldn't actually hear it; it would be entirely inaudible.But it would be there, all the same.Oh, I knew that another, slightly improved version of David Hooks might -- just barely -- pass muster with Daddy, even with the UAB undergrad degree. Let's imagine that Dave were starting graduate work next September at -- say -- The Wharton School. Daddy wouldn't even mind if Dave was going to be on a needs-based fellowship there -- a cash stipend, intended to assist young men and women from. "Where does it hurt, Poppa? Can I help make the pain go away?" I'm fine," he replied. "Perhaps later we'll talk about it."Nothing more was said on the subject and I soon forgot all about it. Well, forgot until the following day."Poppa, can we talk about your pain from yesterday?"My brother being a couple of years younger than me had been put down for his afternoon nap when I had asked my question.We went into his bedroom and he closed the door. Poppa had me sit on the side of the bed while he. We did watch some "Scrubs" dvd's that I have and she proposed that be our Sunday ritual. I had nothing against watching one of my favorite shows with a very cute girl every Sunday.Another week or two went by of doing this same routine. However after the third time of this she alluded to wanting to do more. She said something along the lines of wanting to see how well I kiss. I kept this in the back of my head for her next visit.After we had that conversation, like clockwork she was back at.