20
LEVI
Lily called me right after church, and I lay in my bed, gay p**n playing in the background while I stared at her name on my cell. My hand clutched my aching d**k.
Already on edge and still pissed from the day before, I froze the video on my laptop and answered.
“Hey,” I grumbled.
“I thought you said you would be here.” She didn’t really sound that upset with me for not showing.
“Yeah, I overslept.”
Lie.
“You’ll never guess what happened.”
I didn’t bother asking—she would launch into the tale of the day’s excitement without encouragement.
“Pastor Ezra’s wife passed.”
I recognized the name, that he was a missionary overseas somewhere, but didn’t know much else. “That’s a shame,” I replied on autopilot, my d**k flagging, pissiness officially taking over the need to paint my
