ceciliatan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

“You doing okay?” He leaned in the doorway, his blond dreads hanging rakishly off his forehead, looking like the kind of beautiful tropical bird that will peck your fingers off if you stick them through its cage. “You’ve been a hermit since the incident.”

The Incident of The Tequila, the Lime Knife, And The Curious Infant. Let it be forever spoken of as such. “Yeah.”

“Want to grab some dinner?”

“Sure.” I grabbed my denim jacket (because it hid the splint, not because I was cold) and followed him down to the hotel restaurant.

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I saw stars. They looked like glowing worms burning twisty patterns in the stucco ceiling. When was the last time I came that hard? Fuck.

The sound of Jam gagging jolted me awake more effectively than the orgasm itself. I was also pulling his hair kind of hard and I don’t think it was to pull him off me, if you know what I mean. He somehow soldiered through the moment of choking and successfully swallowed. I let go of him and he let go of me at the same time. His head popped up with a grin and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

I blinked because the part of my brain that controlled talking wasn’t online yet.