“Chad. Chad, it’s me…Finn.”
I opened my eyes and saw the shadowy outline of his figure hovering above me: naked from head to toe with mussed hair. I blinked a few times, rubbed my left eye, and admired his handsomeness in the dark: broad shoulders, hairy chest, limp and cut c**k hanging between his legs like a clock’s pendulum.
I groggily whispered, “Finn, what’s wrong?”
Perhaps an emergency occurred on the island. The cabin or woods were on fire. An interloper had discovered his or her way to the island, ready to take us hostage. Some epic and dangerous event had occurred that he, being the polite and caring host, had decided to bring to my attention.
“I can’t sleep. Sometimes I just don’t want to be alone. Can I maybe slip in beside you?”
I believed him somewhat insecure, unhappy on
