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. “So ... you’re not from here. Are you from Europe?”“If, by Europe, you mean the landmass morning ward, across the big water, No.” They said, “I am not from here.”It was then that I noticed a separate intonation ... they were in harmony.“Where are you... ?” I started but stopped when their joined hands were raised.“There.” They said, “I am from there.”I realized I couldn’t focus on their separate joined hands. There was only one. It was blurry but I could see just one ... two wrists ... one hand.Zen said, “I found them here. Naked ... but not in rebellion. They looked frightened ... but, when they spoke ... it was a language I had never heard. I took them to my bus ... my girlfriend was furious. She grabbed her shit and a tarp and left. I saw her with three different guys during the concert. I had to dress them; that was when I noticed the joining. I’ve come to recognize that they truly are NOT from here.”“They’re good ... excuse me ... I’m not used to this,” I apologized. “You’re. What she really wanted this night, I learned (because she pretty much told me) was to deep throat some "alpha male cock." Her words. To me. Check please.So listen, I am not some 6' tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed stud who chicks or transexual hotties fall all over. Wish I was but I am not - call me 5'8" on a good day, a little older, not overly brilliant or pithy or clever. But I am fit as a fiddle, well dressed and professional, nice and respectful. So who the fuck knows, maybe that counts for something? Regardless, there I was in Ariana's massage cubicle sitting on her table. I mentioned she was pretty, but she was also sexy in a goth sort of way with tattoos and a small silver ring through her eyebrow. She wanted to bring me to her space and do some poppers and suck some cock."Do you like to kiss?" I asked. "Maybe not so much," she said. But after I pulled my shirt over my head she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. It was a soft and glancing kiss with no tongue. Not hungry,.
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Viel Kleidung musste ich eh nicht ablegen, wenn er mich auf dem Zimmer anrief, nur ein String und ein T-shirt, achtlos in die Ecke geworfen und seltsamerweise nahm das Anziehen mehr Zeit in Anspruch- die schwarzen Stiefel, die schwarze Ledermaske, sie zog ich in Hektik an. Und dann war es nur ein wenig Akrobatik: die Spreizstange zwischen die Beine gekettet, und dann auf allen Vieren die Handschellen an die Ringe im Boden geschlossen, und schon war ich fixiert, wehrlos, bis er kam, und ich konnte nur warten, nie sagte er, wie lange er brauchte, aber da er bald eine Vorlesung hatte, w?rde er wohl recht bald kommen. Mit trockenen Mund kniete ich also da und dachte, dass ich besser etwas vorher getrunken h?tte, aber die Zeit war auch knapp. Rief er an, hatte ich f?nf Minuten und sicher w?rde er herausfinden, wenn ich zu lange brauche, wenn ich tr?dele, ich konnte ihn irgendwie nicht bel?gen. Und so kniete ich auf dem rauen Boden, den alten Boden, schon verlegt, als das Studentenwohnheim.

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