Instead, she had junk. Piles of junk on the floor aroundher bed. Piles of junk in a closet in the rear hallway, near the junk-lab. A large, dusty, ...ray box without any seams in one corner of aroom, with a note taped to it that read, "N -- HANDS OFF!!!!!! --T.M."Around the box, a hurricane-level mess of electronics, robotics, scrap,and junk. Rusty, discolored, bent and broken junk. Jagged, crooked,metallic and plastic and glass junk. I thought the junk-lab was herscrap-yard, but I was. He - let's call him Sam - was kind enough to stay late for me. 3 hours later, I'm on his desk, legs spread, and ass stretched to the hilt while he fucks me into tomorrow. After the last bit of paperwork was done, he offered me a beer. We sat and chatted about life, hobbies, work, etc., and eventually delved into more personal areas. By the end of the 2nd beer - he was gay, recently out of a 5 yr relationship, and I confessed to being a closeted bi. I could see the bulge in his pants and went. More

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