The flesh around it was tender, and when I looked in a mirror, I saw that it was red, with a tiny puncture wound in the center. Okay. That’s where....Why is obvious. Next is how? Or maybe when. Every sexual encounter in my life seemed momentarily suspect. But no. The lump on my head was fresh, and certainly NOTHING even remotely compared to this week’s festivities. So it had to have been within the last few weeks. But when? I didn’t have any gaps in memories, didn’t do anything out of the. Maybe luck was on my side; maybe Simon liked the out of bed look. But what if he didn’t, my conscience nagged, and then another thought pierced my brain. When I had my mouth wrapped round his dick, he probably wouldn’t give a shit how I looked. That made me smile. Now it was time for my medicine. Simon was still casually bashing the bishop as he watched the slide show and it almost seemed a shame to disturb him, but he had something I wanted very badly. When I walked round to kneel down in. More

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