“So Sam, where was I?”

I look to my left and this drunkard sat next to me. Mistaking me for someone else, he begins to tell me a tale I hadn’t bargained for.

“There I was, going home with a strange man who I was captivated by. He alluded to such decadent pleasures I had to find out if he was full of it.”

I sipped my wine and nodded politely. He didn’t seem to notice I was a complete stranger myself, and I must admit, he had a way with words.

“Next thing I knew we were on a large bed together, and he was guiding my pants down my legs. I took one last look into his eyes and laid down fully with my eyes closed, at the ready. He gently began to probe my asshole with one of his sausage fingers.”

My eyes bulged at the last remark. I had to know where this story was headed.

“I remember focusing on making my breath deep and long, allowing my whole body to relax to this guy’s ministrations. One finger became two, two became three, and three transformed into a big, erect dick. I was taking it all; I was taking all of him.”

He took a gulp of his beer, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I never felt so primal, so alive. He was fucking my ass and I craved all he had to give me. I didn’t know I needed this, but he showed me how much I was missing in my life. It was as if God showed me those blissful golden gates to the afterlife and I didn’t want to go back to living after that. It was that magnificent.”

“What happened next?” I couldn’t help myself. I was hanging onto this stranger’s every word.

“He took me and he marked me as his own. I was his for the night. When I woke, he was gone, and all he left me was a single rose and a note. The note said: The grass sure is greener, ain’t it?

He looked at me, as if seeing me properly for the first time. I met his eyes even though I wasn’t his Sam.

“Turns out he wasn’t full of it at all. I was the one who was full of it–his dick I mean.”

He gave me a huge grin, clapped me on the shoulder and walked out.

 

 

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