He was telling me ‘up and down up and down.’ He had his hands all tangled in my hair and he was pumping his dick in my mouth. I felt it was such a...chore and I couldn’t imagine myself ever coming back to his room after tonight. I remember thinking of the friends I could stay with. I remember having my head forced down on his crotch and not being able to breathe. I remember having a little more than I could handle in my mouth and then him pushing – forcing – even more in my mouth. I started to. What Gladys did with them, he never knew, and she never told him. He’d just started sketching an old guy that had come in off the streets. Not exactly homeless perhaps, he had enough at least to pay for his dinner. But it was obvious the man lived a hard and tough life. And so he began to sketch. Like always, when he really got into his drawings, paintings, he tended to shut everyone, and everything else out. ‘That’s pretty good!’ he heard someone interrupting. ‘Thanks,’ he responded not even. More

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