Cousin Vic’s eyes roved On a lazy threeway circuit. He leered at me, winked to his buddy, then shameless ogled his own His wink was chockful of unmistakable melanin. No subtle innuendo for Victor.
“Know somethm’g, Connor?” he said, scratching the patch he’d just ogled. “I’ve been thinking. If Gwen won’t fuck for us maybe we oughta settle for a fucking substitute. I’m game if you are. Why don’t we give little Chumley a work-out?”
I never dreamed that Vic would betray me. I’d never once played him dirty. I’d never once refused him. I never sucked his cock except at his express invitation. Vic’s invitations were often urgent, accompanied by hoarse muttering, mingled pleading and cursing, and a great show of slamming my head down over his upright thumper. As if I wouldn’t submit unless he raped me. Yet I’d never once complained about his caveman approach to...