The first couple days were no fun, he spent most of the time in the room set up with internet doing work, leaving me to hang around the boat by myself... I met a few people but no one I was interested in hanging out with, On the third day i decided to go ashore on a day trip, we were on an island called Dominica, and there were supposed to be some nice falls, by the time I was ready I had missed the bus, so as I approached the taxi stand I saw a young couple we had met waiting in line in Miami. “Vhy, Logan? Warum hast du das getan?” I demand of him viciously, ready to move if he so much as twitches in my direction. He looks as if he has walked through Hell and somehow lived, but still is not sure he has survived. Dear God in Heaven, what has happened? The look on his face is something that I have seen only during his insane fighting rages, but why would he be that angry with me? Then I look closer and see the desolation. It is not me at whom his rage is directed; it is. “OH MY FUCKING GOODNESS!!!”Brit screamed. “What?” I asked calmly. Brit blushed. “Sorry. You’ve got the biggest cock I ever seen…”She giggled. Then she added with a whisper, “It’s waybigger than dad’s…” I was about to ask Brit whenshe’d seen dad’s cock but she swooped her head downand took the head of my cock into her mouth withouteven using her hands…I moaned and leaned back. One of her swaying. And does he really not know what boundaries are? Apprehensively, I recalled his kiss, and his blunt inquiry about my scar, and Peter’s vague and unsettling warning. Should I be telling him all this? I wondered. Should I be talking to him at all? He was waiting, his breath measured. “No,” I murmured, “my friend Marie. She’s the one who submitted my paintings last night. She knows Claude,” I added, trying to shift his focus away from my personal life, and back to… anything, really. “My.