“They liked you, too,” I said, then paused. “I, um, never met yours, though.”
His eyes went just a tad wider. He paused as well. His pause stretched and stretched. You could drive a truck through that pause of his. I felt a discomfort in it. What was he thinking? I wondered. But he didn’t reply. The light came back in his eyes. He smiled. “You were the first person ever to kiss me, Jack,” he said. “To suck my d**k. To f**k me.” He pushed slightly away and reached to a small nightstand by the bed. A second later, he was holding a rubber and some lube in his giant mitt of a hand. “f**k me again, Jack. Please, f**k me again.”
Where there was alarm in his eyes a moment before, now there was need. I recognized the look. Or at least I remembered it. So much had changed in him, to him, but not
