The Inquisitive Kid
(NOAH)
The mess hall was loud. It was always a noisy place of clattering trays and booming voices, bursts of laughter and the sounds of movement that I was slowly growing accustomed to. The hall was filled with the smell of cooked grease and strong coffee which made my stomach grumble as soon as I walked in. I grabbed a plate of something vaguely stew-like and scanned the room. The tables were always packed with crew members sitting together, their easy camaraderie a sign that they knew each other well, where I had no hope of fitting in with the macho, raucous display in front of me. Dex eyed me as I walked past him and Sully, sitting there grinning at me with a knowing look, which made my stomach tighten. Seems like I’d already found my place in this macho world, and the only thing I was good at here was bringing men like this to their explosive pleasures.
I found an empty spot at the end of a long table that had become my own personal seat for the past four days, with my back to the wall, where I could sink onto the bench and focus on the simple act of eating while trying not to pretend how exhausted I felt. I felt like a kid, small and lonely, sitting in a room full of large, boisterous men.
The noise level dipped suddenly. I didn't need to look up to know why.
Hank Richardson moved through the mess hall like a battleship through a fleet of dinghies. Men subtly shifted to give him space, smiling up nervously at him. A path seemed to clear for the boss as he got his food. And then, for one heart-stopping moment, his gaze swept the room and landed on me.
My fork froze halfway to my mouth. My God he really is a big man. He had removed the upper portion of his overalls tonight, letting them hang down around his thick waist, revealing a tee shirt that clung to his torso, showing off what had been revealed to me just yesterday when I bumped into him after I showered, as if he was taunting me still, as if my mind hadn’t already memorized what I saw into a permanent surreal painting in my mind. I knew he was barrel-chested, the smack of my face against those hard muscles still stung my cheek, but now I could clearly stare at the two mounds of muscular pectorals over that small round hard gut in his shirt that strained to contain what I knew his chest looked like without the material. His forearms looked even more massive as he carried his tray. But his biceps, straining to rid themselves of the sleeve of his tee were the big draw tonight as his arms maintained a 90-degree pose: two massive looking watermelons announcing their power for all the room to see. And, as always, I noted the thick, wide legs that looked like they could burst out of his dark blue overall pants as he walked by me, reminding me of the thick, muscled bare ones, curved and strong, that I looked down on when he grabbed my naked body after I slammed into his mountainous one.
But it was the thickness of his neck, and those light husky eyes that seemed to hold my gaze tonight that made me freeze. Forget Dex, and Sully, and even Jonesy who entered the hall just behind him. THIS was a man I couldn’t help but fantasize about as I lay awake in my bed every night.
He didn't nod. Didn't smile. Just turned and walked—not to the table with the other senior crew where he usually sat, but to a smaller, empty table in the corner. He sat with his back to the wall like a king claiming a throne. The message was as clear as if he’d shouted it: he was alone, and he wanted to be.
I looked down at my plate, my appetite suddenly on hold as I let the image of this brute dance in my head. Him, practically naked, dripping wet, his thick dark hair messy and askew, holding me by the arms, the towel concealing the rest of him that I wanted to see the most.
“Watch where you’re going.”
My eyes flicked back up to his ball capped head hiding that thick mane underneath, all shaved around the sides, watching him sitting there, before I realized I was staring. The silence at my own end of the table suddenly felt a little too obvious and I glanced back down at my food.
Then, I heard the scrape of a chair.
I looked up. He was still at his table, but he had shifted his chair, just slightly. Angled it. And now his gaze, from across the room, was, I was sure, pinned directly on me. His expression was unreadable, his eyes partially shadowed by the brim of his hat on his thick skull, but the focus was absolute. It was the same calculating look he’d given me on the helideck.
My breath caught in my throat. This was it. He was going to call me over. To reprimand me for my carelessness on the deck from the other day, to tell me he’d been watching me carefully since then, that I wasn't cut out for this. My probation was up after only four short days. I wasn’t worthy of being here.
Or worse, maybe Dex told him what I did so willingly in the shower a few days ago, like he set me up. Or he had seen me slink out of Sully’s shower when he bumped into me, and this was no place for a ‘fag’ like me. Shame flowed through me and I felt my cheeks flush. My heart beat a mile a minute as I waited for the slightest signal that he was going to call me over.
But he didn't speak. He just stared at me. And in that prolonged, silent assessment, something shifted. The fear didn't vanish from my chest, that’s for sure, but it morphed into something else inside me. The scary guy wasn't preparing to yell at me or humiliate me any further. He was observing me. And I realized, with a jolt, that the most terrifying thing about Hank Richardson wasn't his size or his voice. It was his quiet. It was the unnerving sense that he saw everything, and assessed it all silently.
After a moment that felt like an eternity as I held his gaze and tried to slow my heartbeat, he gave a single, almost imperceptible nod. Then he looked down at his own food and began to eat, those big hands that had touched my arms now gripped his fork and knife, making them comically small in his grasp.
The spell in me was broken. The roar of the mess hall rushed back into my ears. I let out the breath I was holding. And I felt my heart thumping a strange, new rhythm.
He’d just sat alone, in a room full of people, to share a moment of silence with me. And I had no idea what the hell it meant. But in my own mind, Hank the Tank Richardson was now more than just a fantasy of dripping wet mountainous muscle. There was something else about him that was drawing me in. I felt a new storm brewing inside me.
I finished my meal quickly, dumping my dishes as usual, and proceeded out of the mess hall with one last look over my shoulder to find the enormous figure of Hank Richardson still watching me as I exited. It sent a thrill through me and I inadvertently smiled at him, before rushing outside, suddenly embarrassed, for some fresh air.
I was a mess of emotions, as I felt that flush of heat run through my entire body. I didn’t feel like this when I sucked off Dex. This didn’t happen when Sully tried to fuck me. It was happening when I looked at Hank Richardson.
And when Hank Richardson looked at me.
I made it out to the drill floor, feeling the bitter wind hit my face as I gripped the railing. The coldness enveloped me, making me shudder even more. I was losing control, feeling lost and lonely. I promised myself I wouldn’t feel like this for anyone since Liam died. I promised myself I would leave it all behind and escape to this place, away from everything and everyone. But I was lonely. So. Fucking. Lonely.
Now I was infatuated with my boss.
I hung on to the railing and leaned backwards, stretching my upper body, feeling the pull of my muscles, letting out a low groan as I did. I straightened myself and looked up into the night sky, the smell of salt filling my nose and the damp mist hitting my face.
“FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yelled out into the sea, ignoring the shift workers, pulling on the railing as if my strength alone could yank it from the deck in a frantic frenzy of craziness.
“YOU ALRIGHT?!?” I heard someone yelling to my right, and turned to see the hulking figures of Dex and Sully standing not too far down along the steel walkway, hands in their pockets, watching me.
I straightened up, and wiped my face from the wet mist a couple times before they got to me, full of smiles.
“You havin’ a little fit there, half-pint?” Dex’s voice was closer and clearer now, without the need to yell. The wind was howling a bit, slapping our clothes against our own bodies as Sully ran a hand over his head of hair.
“Come inside before someone thinks you’re losing it already. Somewhere warmer.” Sully said loudly, clapping that hand he just used on his head onto my shoulder. Steering me in the opposite direction I was heading with Dex’s hand on me now too, they turned me around back to the closest door back to the interior area, the sound of our boots on the steel walkway banging loudly against the sounds of the rig and the sea.
I didn’t speak, just let the two big men walk me inside, down the corridor a bit, along the tiled floor. I was still shaking, and their hands never left my shoulders.
Once the outer door closed, the quieter humming of the rig seemed to echo in my brain, the noise from the churning sea no longer a factor in my thoughts as I realized that the two men were leading me down a different hallway, turning me down another corridor, leading me into the living quarters. We were on the main level, and we didn’t stop until we got to room 14B. Dex then shoved me forward into the wall and leaned his bulk against me as Sully let go and opened the cabin door.
Dex’s voice was at my ear, his voice now quieter, his body holding me in place as I saw Sully look down the hallway.
“Looks like you’re a little frustrated out there. Why don’t you step inside Sully’s room and forget about everything for a while? We can help you with that and in turn you can help us out with a thing or two.” Dex kept his hand on my shoulder and found my wrist, twisting it behind my back and pulled me off the wall and pushed me into Sully’s room quickly.
The door closed and the two of them stood in front of me. I looked up at them, both taller and wider than me, standing inches from me, both of them breathing heavily with a fine mist of wetness covering their heads. Dex pushed me to my knees and then they both went for their zippers.
“Open that hot mouth boy.” Dex panted out, whipping out that cock I sucked the other day as Sully revealed his as well.
I let out a huff of resignation and stared at the two dicks, hardly believing I was in this situation, before Dex stepped up to my head and grabbed my hair, forcing himself into my face. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth, simply to avoid the beating of his meat against my face as Sully moved in closer holding his own out for me.
“Fuck yeah, you little slut. Told you he’d go for it.” Dex grunted as he shoved his dick deep into my throat, making me gag. “We saw you in the mess hall, and when you left, we knew you’d want some real meat for dinner.”
They laughed, and Dex pulled me off his dick and Sully stepped up, a little more gently, guiding his dick to my open mouth.
I grabbed the base of his cock and heard myself moan as I swallowed him down. “Yeah, that’s it, suck his dick all the way down boy.” Dex leaned over me and smacked my covered ass before he squeezed it as I choked on Sully’s thick cock.
“Sully’s gonna fuck this muscled ass while you blow me.” Dex grunted, forcing my head down all the way on Sully’s cock, making me gag even more and I pulled off and sat back on my feet. “Said he tried to in the shower but you were too tight. But I think we can loosen you up tonight, right sweet cheeks?” He gave my ass another slap and I snapped out of it.
What the fuck was I doing?! I suddenly thought and sat back on the heels of my boots.
“Fuck off Dex.” I spat out, seeing the look of shock on both their faces. Sully looked suddenly nervous, holding his hard cock in his hand as Dex’s stuck straight out at me.
Dex frowned at me. “Oh, like you don’t want it?” Then his hand went to my throat. He pulled me up, spun me around and shoved me against the wall beside the door so fast it surprised both me and Sully. “Listen you little fairy, don’t think for a second you have any other choice in this, or we go and tell everyone how you came on to us in the shower. No one wants a little fag running around here, flirting with all of us. You’d be off this rig so fast. Got it?”
I froze, my back against the wall, Dex’s breath on my face, feeling his large hand squeeze my throat just enough to make me lose my breath and my voice, so I nodded quickly.
Sully put a hand on Dex’s shoulder and looked at me with a sudden look of concern. “Easy Dex. Not like this. He’s not going to say anything, right Evans? Go easy on him man.”
Dex grimaced for a moment, his eyes looking down my face, to his own hand around my throat before he loosened it a bit. He licked his lips, trying to decide what to do next. My hand came up to his wrist and I tried to pull his fingers off me but he seemed to enjoy my attempt. His grip was too tight, so instead I stared at him while my other hand slid along the wall to find the handle of the door.
I knew better to fight. The Coach taught me at least that.
“It’s okay. I get it. Relax Dex. I’m good.” I managed to get out as I gave a half smile at Dex’s furious eyes, feeling the pressure from his grip release a bit more as my other hand found the handle. When Dex stepped back and relaxed, I found the strength to push him backwards. I was still a strong guy for my size, as my muscles were used for a lot more for just showing off in gymnastics. It caught him off guard and I opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.
Neither guy followed me out immediately as their dicks hanging out of their pants, so I was halfway down the hallway when I heard the first “Get the fuck back here!” from Dex and glanced over my shoulder to see him emerge with his fly done up.
And once again, I ran into someone before my head turned back around.
With a solid “OOF” I slammed into another beefy body, this one clothed, and felt the hands grip my shoulders. But it wasn’t Hank the Tank I ran into this time.
“Problem fellas?” I heard the deep voice above me say as I stared up into the grey moustache of Jonesy.
I turned my head back around to see Dex stop dead in his tracks, and Sully emerge from his cabin. Jonesy loosened his grip on my arms and sort of set me aside, and looked down the hallway at the others, waiting for someone to say something.
Sully moved beside Dex and gave a giant shrug of his shoulders, his grin spreading his bearded face into a lighter look. “Nah. Just havin’ a little fun with the kid Jonesy. Right Evans?”
Dex spread his feet and took a stance, folding his arms across his wide chest and stared back at Jonesy. Like two gunslingers about to square off in a draw. “Nothin’ to concern yourself with Jones.”
Jonesy’s moustache twitched as his lips moved and his eyes glanced over at me before he spoke. “Right then.” But no one moved. Jonesy stood stock still, as did Sully and Dex. I was the one who’s head was turning back and forth between Jonesy and the other two men just a few feet down the hallway.
So, I said something. “Hey Jonesy, maybe you could help me out since these two doofuses have no idea when the pump was last cleaned out.”
Jonesy’s eyes narrowed as Sully’s head flicked back to him, and Dex uncrossed his arms and let out a soft sigh and gave me a dirty look.
“Check the log.” Jonesy said quickly and folded his arms across his strong chest, matching Dex’s stance.
Sully gave Dex a tap on the shoulder as if to tell him something, but Dex refused to look away from Jonesy.
“Good idea.” I mumbled, waiting for someone to move.
“Richardson should have it.” Jonesy said rather loudly, as if Hank’s name would instill fear in the other two.
It sort of worked, as Sully hit Dex’s shoulder again, this time Dex turned to him and Sully gave him a nod to head back to his room.
Dex gave one last look our way, especially at me, and pointed a finger at me.
“See ya tomorrow then Evans! And we’ll finish what we started.” He said harshly, before he turned and followed Sully back to the room I had just ran out of, and disappeared from our view. “Night Fred. You two enjoy yourselves.”
I swallowed hard as I looked up to the stocky figure of Fred Jones, or “Jonesy” as everyone called him, wondering if he was my saviour or just another man to take advantage of me.
“You alright there, little worm?” Jonesy asked me as he stood in front of me now. He had been calling me worm since day one. I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t going to complain. Of all the names I was being called, worm was the least offensive to me.
Jonesy raised his eyebrows, his moustache covering his lips. He was a big guy, like Dex, wide and stolid. But his shaved grey head and matching coloured moustache seemed to soften him a bit.
I breathed a sigh of relief, wiping my mouth suddenly, tasting the other two men’s dicks still, but glad Jonesy had interrupted what I was sure wasn’t going to be a good situation. I looked up into his eyes and had a flash of my own grandfather who passed away some time ago. I wanted to just fling my arms around Jonesy and hug him, to thank him without telling him why. But the way he was standing still made me unsure of his intentions.
“Uh, not really.” I said, tugging at the shirt collar around my neck, wondering if Dex left a red mark on me.
Jonesy unfolded his big arms across from his muscular chest and planted his hands on his hips in a stance that screamed out “I don’t believe you” without saying a word.
“They were just trying to help me out.” I lied, feeling the heat of my blood spread up my cheeks in shame.
Jonesy’s big eyebrows furrowed, practically shielding his eyes before he took a few steps towards me, covering the distance in no time without making hardly any sounds.
“Didn’t look like they were helping you.” There was an accusatory tone to his voice, but I knew it was all a show. After a few days with Jonesy, I felt safe and secure, like he would protect you to the ends of the earth once he got to know you. And for the past four days, Jonesy got to know my skills and told me he was as impressed with me as if I was his own son.
But suddenly I wondered if Jonesy was just like the rest of them. And I was only good for one thing.
I couldn’t lie to him, but I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth either.
Like a boy, I just shrugged and looked up at the bigger man.
His face softened, his eyebrows scrunching up in the middle to make him look sad, and he put an arm around my shoulder. “Maybe you should check in with Richardson if they’re botherin’ you. He’d want to know. He’s the boss. Wouldn’t let that sort of shit go on.” He squeezed me comfortingly with his big arm, and I could smell tobacco on him. “Trust me.”
“Oh…there’s nothing going on. It’s all good. Honestly. Besides, I’m new. They’re just being guys, right? I’m not snitch or anything. I can figure all this out. No problem. Really.” I blabbered on until Jonesy stopped walking down the corridor with me, leaving his arm on my shoulder, my heart pounding in a warning I was trying to ignore.
He looked down at me, his moustache twitching at one corner of his mouth as if he was deciding whether he wanted to smile at me or at yell at me. But Jonesy didn’t move. Just slid his arm off my shoulder and put his hands on his hips and looked down at me. “Don’t let those idiots push you around. And if you do got problems, Richardson’s the guy you want to talk to. Anytime. He’s in 3A. Go down a level. Second door on the right. Usually open.” He stood there, facing me. Our bodies were close together, facing him. He was a solid guy, taller than me by about 6 inches, and fifty pounds heavier of more manly meat than I could ever hope to put on my own body. I felt like a little boy once again, standing in front of a man, feeling guilty and shaking.
I waited. Ready for what I was used to. I felt my body tighten. From the frying pan into the fire.
But Jonesy put his two calloused hands on both my shoulders and lowered his chin to his chest and his moustache puffed out again, his lips disappearing underneath the full stache on his face and let out a long breath.
“Richardson will look out for you Evans. I can tell he’s really impressed with you, and wouldn’t want the likes of Dex ruining that. Go to Richardson. Trust him. He’ll make it right without anyone knowin’ you squealed. That’s my advice. Besides, you wanted to check the record of the pump…right?”
“Right.” I said, nodding a little too earnestly. He gave my shoulders a fatherly squeeze and then backed up and walked away from me, leaving me even more confused than before.
“Then away you go, Worm.” He gave me a wink and a smile and waited.
He didn’t try anything. He didn’t press himself against me. He didn’t pull his cock out. He just tried to point me in the direction of my boss.
The one guy I was trying to control myself around.
In a trance I started walking, replaying the scene Jonesy must have walked in on. I wondered if he saw me coming out of Sully’s room. I wondered what he must be thinking about me, and why Dex and Sully were after me.
I found myself on the lower level, standing outside cabin 1A before I came out of my trance. I was right here, in the living quarters area of my boss. But what would I tell him was the real reason I wanted to see him? That I needed to know if he felt something when he stared at me in the mess hall? That I found him so unbelievably attractive that I needed air? That I was thinking about him so much I just about gave in to the two men I’d already sucked off since I got here just to feel something?
I think I’ll stick with the pump.
I wasn’t really lying to Jonesy when I said I wondered about the pump. I did notice that it needing cleaning, and I should probably start with that for my next shift, to make up for my tardiness yesterday.
I followed the walkway a bit further to find 3A. Almost all of the doors were open, wide open, and empty. I paused for a minute, wondering if all the senior guys were in one room somewhere having a meeting or something before I was standing in front of Richardson’s room.
It too was wide open. And my inquisitive brain got the better of me. As it always did.
I peered in, checking first each direction down the corridor of anyone watching or coming my way. No one was, so I stepped inside, calling out his name. It smelled like him, was neat like him in a manly way. I noticed how big his room was, with room for two beds even though he just had the one. There was a tall dresser and the obligatory chest at the foot of the bed, and a desk, with a few books on it. I noticed the one on top was called Pump Maintenance.
Maybe he logged in the last cleaning? I thought to myself as I drifted over to it, and flipped the book open to where the pen held its place and stopped short.
Instead of the lists of dates and checkmarks I was expecting, the book was filled with paragraph of block capital letters, written rather neatly, with the last dated entry from just today: June 24th, 2003. And I couldn’t help but begin to read:
The similarities are frightening. I knew it right away. He had the same eyes. Not the color of Evan’s—Jim's were brown, warm like coffee. But the look. That quiet, watchful thing. Like they could see past the brutish figure and find something worth looking at. But it’s his build that is pulling me in. The tight, compact body. His physique is a work of art. Smooth, solid, perfection. The graceful way he moves. The strength. The dedication to his form. It’s too much like Jim to ignore. Or forget. Even though I’ve tried. This kid—Evans—reminded me of that first moment I first laid eyes on Jim. His build is similar. Compact, yes. Precise even. Jim came up to me, knowing what he wanted, going after this mountain he wanted to climb. But Noah Evans moved off that chopper like he owned the ground. His stature seems more powerful than my beautiful dancer. He’s got a confidence that seems to pierce right through me. Like he knows me. Most new roustabouts look at me and see a monster. They flinch. He just tilted his head back and met my eyes. Steady. Strong. It's like Jim reached across fifteen years and tapped me on the shoulder. Look, he's saying. Look at him. Noah Evans. I’m sending him to you to make up for what I did. He'll be in the mess hall soon. I'll sit in the corner, alone, and I'll watch him without meaning to. I'll tell myself it's just curiosity, just vetting the new guy. Evans. But I'll know the truth. I want to feel something again. Haven’t I punished myself enough?
My heart pounded in my chest as I read my name, and the way he described me, and compared me to Jim.
Jim? This isn’t a pump maintenance log. It’s Richardson’s journal. And he’s talking about ME.
I glanced at the date again, and flipped back, to the many, MANY pages of neat writing, all capital letters, all manly formed carefully, each letter precisely written. For a man that looked like Hank the Tank Richardson, this is a surprise.
“I’m sending him to you to make up for what I did.”
I shut the book tight, suddenly ashamed at reading his inner thoughts, and put it back into the Log Entry book where I found it, trying to remember how it looked when I came in, but knowing I didn’t really notice. I took two quick steps back to the open door, my head reeling.
He’s been watching me. He had a “beautiful dancer” named Jim. He wants to feel something again.
I was out of the room, down the corridor in a flash, and up the stairs, back to my own room so quickly I was out of breath. Once inside, I shut my door and locked it, flopping down on the bed, fear and shame and exhaustion overwhelming me all at once. My heart was racing and all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and hide.
I stripped down to my underwear, sliding under the covers, to allow myself to reflect on the journal I found. My heart was pounding now for a different reason.
My mind processed what I read in that one paragraph: Hank was in love with someone named Jim; he has to be gay too; I remind him of Jim; he’s hiding his guilt, and shame, and has been punishing himself.
Like me.
And like me, he’s infatuated too. With me.
A smile spread over my face as I thought about that wet, naked body I bumped into. As a gymnast, I’ve always admired the male physique for its definition and power, for the way the muscles moved and flexed. Richardson was a surprise. I knew he was big as soon as I saw him once I stepped off that chopper. I had no idea he was a sculpture of pure manliness.
But there was so much more to Hank the Tank than just his physique. He wrote in a journal, letting out his thoughts and inner feelings. His words were beautiful. He was reflective, observant, thoughtful. And he was attracted to me.
This went beyond a physical lust now.
I kicked the covers down and pulled out my dick from my underwear, freeing myself into the air of my small bunk, tugging it gently as I thought about Richardson’s biceps and shoulders and the way he stared at me so intently. Knowing now, for sure, there was a possibility of his reciprocation. I moaned as I wrapped my fist around my shaft, enjoying the sensation of my hand around it, imagining it was his big hand. Like a horny teen, I removed my underwear to free my cock and balls completely, lying naked in my bed with my knees bent. And I started to jerk myself with one hand as I grabbed my pec with the other thinking about this big man.
Hank Richardson’s body flashed in my head. My eyes wanted to know what was under that towel. My hands wanted to feel that barrel-chest and the biceps that flexed so big. I wanted to feel his large hands that held my arms caress over my smooth body. My mouth wanted to taste him, kiss him, bury myself in that cavern between his pecs.
I let out a moan as I arched a bit, missing the feeling of another man’s naked body on mine. IN mine.
“Fuck me.” I moaned out softly as I gripped my chest with my left hand, letting my right one take me over the edge. Because not only was this a physical attraction, there was something deeper about him. A man that was capable of those beautiful words and insights held more depth than I could possibly imagine. This was a man with a hidden talent, a creative side I would have never guessed.
Forget Dex and his rough abusive manner. Forget the handsome bearded face of Sully. I didn’t want either of them.
I wanted Hank.
Even in his stern-faced stare he was fucking sexy as hell. He was all man. All power and strength and quiet rage. Imagine what it would be like to have him kiss you, I thought to myself. Imagine what it would be like to hear those words he thought and wrote down being said out loud. Imagine what it would feel like to feel him slide inside you, I thought as I felt the surge within me rising.
I grunted out, letting my chin fall to my chest to watch the first rope of cum fly out of my dick to land in a long line up my clenched abs, right up to my chin. I let out a small laugh as the next rope erupted in a similar line, not quite reaching the same distance. A third and fourth followed before I let my head fall back on the bed in a shudder. The fifth and six came out in dribbles and a gasp, and the seventh simply poured out over my thumb as I let my breath exhale completely.
“Holy shit,” I panted out, amazed at the distance I shot, and the amount I unleashed as I looked around for something to aid in my cleanup before my mind turned back to Richardson.
How the hell was I going to control myself around him when he did THIS to me, I thought as I let go of my spent cock and looked up at the ceiling of my small cabin.
“I’m in trouble now.” I breathed out, letting my hand rest lazily on my heaving abs as I continued to think about how sexy Hank the Tank Richardson truly was, before I fell asleep.
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