That wasn’t in the text that I wrote, I thought. She picked up the story once more. “With Richard’s cock so fucking hard, Richard pulled Marti... to the edge of the bed. Richard drew his cock over Martin’s backside and then pushed his cock along to be parallel with Martin’s. He grabbed both of them together and pulled on them.” Kelly was almost panting just reading the story. Richard was pulling on our cocks together, his breathing was also labored. I looked at Kelly and smiled. I was not sure. And in this case, the source was a young guy with hair so short it was almost blue and a capacious jacket with as many pockets as were humanly feasible. Including pockets hidden inside pockets. And then there were the set of pockets on his brown baggy, cotton trousers. Unlike everyone else in the room, he was sitting on a chair by the corner, about as far from the speakers as he could be, only occasionally tapping a foot to the frenetic beats, a smile of deep joy spread over his face, but with. More

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