Since the question had been sitting at the back of my mind from the moment I saw James. Not until now–the time that I decided to ask him out of the blues. James looked perplexed. His lips paused to a thing line as he tried to be sure what kind of question I had asked him.
“Hmmm?” he said.
“I asked, how old are you?” I repeated.
He chuckled “why do you wanna know? Does my age matter?” he said, dragging out the moment.
Maybe I shouldn't care about his age. Maybe he was right, did it matter how old he was? It wasn't like I was trying to get married to him or anything of such, right? Yet again, my curiosity wouldn't let me be and my horny self wouldn't stop thinking about James and his lips, and his packs. And his strong arm…and his tattoo and…my mind wouldn't stop wondering how huge wh
