"Because I am," he answers just as calmly.The chill that runs down my spine pretty much renders me incapable of giving a coherent reply. To my embarra...sment I mutter something dreadfully similar to just, "Okay..." and accept that this is happening. Not that I am given any choice in the matter, of course. I hear him unzip, I feel the warmth of his engorged manhood radiate against my bared loins. He grabs both of my wrists, wrenching my back and robbing me of any support I could have hoped for,. She continued cleaning. Her energy amazed him. Near midnight Stan began to grow tired and turned to talk to her.She had taken all the clothes out of his closets, straightened and replaced some, ironed others, and set up neat piles of colors for the dirty stuff. Stan saw a pair of his dirty boxers near the top of the white pile and blushed."I uh, I'm tired, you should take the bed, and I'll sleep here on the couch tonight. Later I'll get you a roll-away or something, I dunno." Oh Stan, that's so. This story is copyright 2012 by Kyrie Hobson. Permissionis hereby given to share this story on the World Wide Web, provided that(a) no charge of any kind, including, but not limited to, subscriptionfees, is made in connection with access to the story, (b) the story isreprinted in its entirety, including this notice, and (c) proper creditis given to the author at the time of posting. All other rights,including, but not limited to, those of adaptation to other media andformats, reserved to the. But, with his neat, white crew cut and ramrod-straight posture, it had just made him look like an action hero. Suddenly, combined with the disheveled clothing and the slouch, it looked positively disreputable.Kale stopped in his tracks again, "That's amazing."Anders favored him with a rare smile, "If I go talk to this Romeo guy looking like an FBI agent, he's going to clam up. But, I'm betting he's dealt with low-rent PIs before. He'll be more comfortable if I look like one." He looked Kale up.