December 11
He’s sexy in dim light.
Speedoboy is clearly not a boy, but I’m guessing not far from forty and incredibly lean to the point of being bony. Never too rich, too thin, too hung. His Speedo is royal blue and very tight. He smiles a lot, though I wish he wouldn’t because he could use a good orthodontist.
I fall back on my sofa. Speedoboy comes at me like he’s going to dive, then he lands with his torpedo thin body on top of me. He grinds our crotches together. His c**k is big and if he weren’t so rough and anxious it would feel good. He’s resting his long skinny arms on the back of the sofa getting louder with his “Oh f**k yes baby” calls when a single drop of blood lands on my shoulder. I think of the saint that cried blood tears, St. Agnes. I was raised Catholic and recall a
