#173940 - “Tommy,” (Greta was the only person I’d ever heard call my father Tommy, rather than Tom) “ I’ll tell ya, he didn’t spill a drop, or that Billy boy don’t pop a real big load yet, but which ever way it was, your boy sure did love drinking down whatever he got. There was a desk and chair, a television on a table, a couple book-shelves and filing-cabinets, a long couch on one wall, and that was it. If this isn’t your cup of tea, then Don’t Fucking Read It!!! (Don’t you people look at the tags when you choose a story to read?) There’s plenty of plain-vanilla lovey-dovey stories out there for you! Don’t fill-up my inbox with a bunch of messages telling me what a sick pervert I am.

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