“Sorry to hear that, but there goes any leverage you had over me,” I said.“That is true, but tell me aren’t you getting tired of having to buy everything off the net. All that just because you don’t drive?” he asked.Actually I don’t mind it at all. If you really knew me, you would know that how I deal with shit like that is just part of my life. So give it up Lt,” I suggested.“Okay when you are ready, I’m sure I can find you boring things for you to do,” he suggested.“Fair enough,” I said.I think that I honestly tried to be a good neighbor to the coffee saloon. I didn’t play loud country music, and I didn’t walk around nude, but nothing I did could make me like the people in designer clothes sipping white coffee. It was just obscene.The management did declare the outside street cafe a quiet zone. They cautioned the clientele to keep the noise down. And that worked reasonably well, but it did nothing for the light pollution. Bear Creek after dark had always been lit by only a few. Until, a squealing, sissyish, wimpering, poor excuse for a man, Ispunked the lovely man's face with a cupful of hot love juice.Here's what a little sissy faggot I was that day. I sat onSmithers' lap, kissed him and laid my hand on his stiff pole forthe first time. He didn't try to stop me. My face was smeared with my own cum as we kissed. I skinned hiscockhead up and down, rubbing my thumb in his peehole until thebeautiful man began to moan and drench my hand with his thick, richmanly cream.And the bell rang, ending our session.I thought we would go on. I wanted to go on. But Smithers gentlylifted me off his lap and arose. "That was lovely, Ronnie," hesaid. "You can go in the bathroom to clean up."I was miffed. Was I some business arrangement with him? Couldn't wekiss for another five minutes? Do other things too? Was it justslam-bam, thank you ma'am for this guy?My dissatisfaction increased when I saw my cum-covered face andsmeared lipstick. What was I doing? Was I crazy?I cleaned up.
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