Let’s call him Brandon. Brandon was one of those straight b*o types who seemed to always blare his crappy music when I was studying. He was also kin...a cute, and I loved looking at him in his boxers as he climbed out of bed each morning. I never saw Brandon without his boxers, but I sometimes jerked myself to sl**p, imagining his cock carelessly slipping through the unbuttoned fly as he pulled aside his sheets. Peering at Brandon’s bare shoulders peeking out from under his covers, I would reach. ’ ‘Thank you. It’s a ’64 Thunderbolt, with a lot of miles on it.’ She followed him into the foyer of his large house, a house too big for one person. Dressed casually, she presented a decidedly more feminine appearance than her Jimmy Page persona. He set the amp down and whistled. ‘Look at this! The covering and grill cloth are in good shape. And the chassis is not rusted. This amp may have a lot of miles, but it’s been well cared for. You bought this on eBay?’ Jon was giddy with excitement.. More

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