Sometimes it feels really good to completely curtail my responsibilities, like ignoring my jury duty summons or not returning the school book I rented from the Ohlone College bookstore.
But then there's times where it feels really bad, like when I spend all my money or drink too much or never do my laundry or clean my room.
The cigarette in your hand reminds me of your oral fixation and the attendant skill derived from it. I fondly recall caressing from your knee up your thigh. The tiny blonde hairs standing at attention to my touch. I'm at once surprised at their presence yet not at all put out by the lack of depilatory care. I'm aroused and you take me into your mouth. Oddly, we never kiss. I wonder briefly what you taste like. The thought is fleeting as bliss rapidly ensues. The welcoming of your flesh soothes me like no other. Years later and I still dream of you.
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