His head ached. It was almost like a hang over, buteverywhere felt sick, even places that really shouldn't like his toes.He tried to go back to sleep,...but failed.His mind reeled. He remembered his mom's text. Something weird. Thisdefinitely counted. He reached into his pocket but his phone wasn'tthere. He realized suddenly he was in his bedroom. How had he gottenhere? He'd been in the living room and then...It was all blurry, but not so blurry it wasn't coherent. He'd donesomething. Something. Torey was actually pretty cool. Though sometimes I’d forget she was even a girl with her low cut and baggy clothes.“ Yeah, might have to stop by later on your break or something and help him out, “ Brandon said with a laugh.“ Get the hell out, “ I ordered as they laughed and headed to work.I was 19 and had never even seen a pussy in person. My days off were dedicated to masturbating and searching the internet for porn. Most of my friends were living it up and shared stories of how much ass they. Leah is an amazing poet, at least I think so. I’m not into the typical angry/hurt emo style, nor the Olde English wanna-be with its flowery prose and words with pronunciations altered so they rhyme. Leah’s poetry is plain talk with cadence and some rhyming when it works into what she’s saying. It’s almost exclusively about her family life; prior problems with hubby, reconciliation, and kids. With each one her heart comes out through her words and is laid on the tables for the crowd to pick. Fuck his sweet bubble ass, or take his long beautiful cock in to my mouth and throat. While I undressed rapidly, I had to force him to sit on the bed and watch. Off with everything including the shoes and socks. I walked over to him, straddled his legs and took his head and brought it to my already hard cock. Mort protested weakly at first but as I pressed his lips with my cock head, his mouth opened and he let out a light groan. His mouth was hot and wet and I held his head and pumped gently.