Chapter 8: The Middle of September-2

1027 Words

The unisex bathroom inside The Pioneer Bar was like any other bathroom in the Midwest. The walls were a brown tile, the floor was a slate grey, and the sinks automatically turned on when waving a hand in front of them. The lighting was a fluorescent buzz, which sounded like an apiary, and the toilet was the cleanest one both Fargo and Chip had ever seen, impressed with its newness. Chip was on his knees and had his boyfriend’s c**k lodged down the back of his throat. He pummeled his face forward and backward, craving the d**k. Saliva dripped at the corners of his mouth, not that he minded. Above him, Fargo swayed with similar movement, groaned, and whispered, “Don’t make me shoot in your mouth, pal, because I will,” knowing that Chip didn’t mind the taste of some bittersweet ejaculate, al

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