The Message Paul Norton sat in his dimly-lit room somewhere in the suburbs of Boston. He looked outside and saw a blizzard pounding the neighborhood. ...hite-skinned and with blond hair, Paul suffered from an overactive intelligence which compelled him to notice things that other people did not. He disliked authority’s instructions, and frequently called people names which they would not otherwise deserve. Fortunately, those same people had been understanding as Paul learned to keep his true view. Jarrad was jolted out of a deep sleep by the ringing of his phone. He looked at the caller-ID and saw it was Brad. “Good morning, Brad,” he said sleepily, “To what do I owe this pleasure?” “Sounds like I woke you,” Brad said apologetically. “Oh no,” Jarrad snapped back, “I had to get up to answer the phone.” “Very funny, ha, ha.” rebounded Brad, “You aren't supposed to be sleeping this time of day anyway.” “Apparently not, but you still haven't told me why you had to spoil a perfectly good. “Yeah, I guess,” I said. “But can I ask, what does your husband think of all of this? He and I didn’t talk a lot at the barbecue. And you didn’t say anything that was actually meaningful regarding him last week.”She seemed to squirm in the seat she’d taken at my little utility table. “Look you got any coffee in there?” She nodded in the direction of the kitchenette.“Yeah, sure,” I said. I started to wheel myself to get her the coffee, but she raised her hand to short shank me.“I’ll get it; I’m. She gives the back of my head a lovingly kiss as her cock rests in between my butt cheeks. “Anything for you!” I say. She wraps her arm underneath me as she grabs a pillow with her other hand and shoves it underneath me as she lifts me up with ease. I grab the other pillow and hug it. She giggles as she looks down at me. “Huh, you look so adorable, I’m going to turn you into my little pillow biter.”Just what every man wants to hear…“Don’t be embarrassed, Samuel. Is it really so bad to be.