Date: Fri, 3 Oct 2008 21:15:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gloryhole Junkie <misterghj@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Real Incest" Part One

"Real Incest"
By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
misterghj@yahoo.com


Disclaimer:

If you're an adult, don't have sex with a kid.

If you're a kid, don't have sex with an adult. Yes. It goes both ways (like
your dad).

Don't read this if it's against your Religion's teachings and you might,
therefore, face beheading (for as long as your face is attached to that
head, of course).

If you're a dad, don't confuse fucking your son with teaching him about the
"Birds and the Bees" (he'll start to wonder how many loads he has to take
before "procreating the species" angle to the act kicks in).

And if you're a son, don't wake your dad up with a blow job and then
explain that you were only looking for him to give you a little brother or
sister (a million of them).

Do try to restrain yourself to reading (and whacking) rather than acting
out the following story line by line and scene by scene.

Don't publish, re-post or print (in other words, "plagiarize" the following
story. All rights reserved.




"Real Incest" Part One By: Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE




Jock, born John James Fitzpatrick, was a homosexual who was deeply in the
closet.

But such shouldn't be of any surprise since he was raised in a staunchly
Irish Catholic house in early/mid-century Chicago.

He was the youngest in his family. And it came to light but only once he
was in middle-age that he was molested numerous times by the three men who
lived under the same roof on Union Avenue.

He kept the secret until that day he shared it with his adult son many
decades later. And he only shared it with his son during a sexual encounter
of their own.

As a young child, Jock would have secret play time with the man who lived
in the lower apartment of their family's two flat. The man, Len, was an
avid amateur photographer who had converted a corner of his tore front shoe
repair shop on south Halsted Street into a dark room. He was married to a
plump woman who had long been great friends with Jock's mother.

By the age of three, Len had used Jock in any number of photo sessions down
in the basement. Or in Jock's bedroom when everyone would be out.

While anyone who new Len had seen his moody black and white shots of
Christmas trees on State Street or of dogs barking in the alley that ran
behind their apartment building, no one except for a handful of men who
would meet him in the public park in the afternoon, ever saw the enormous
stash of photographs that he'd taken of Jock.

They saw the one or two where Jock was in his family's living room, reading
a child's storybook. And they saw the one where Jock, at age six, was in a
doorway wearing a fedora as to look like Sam Spade.

But they didn't the hundreds of hand printed shots of Jock at three with an
adult cock in his mouth. Or the one, at age five, of his spread butt
cheeks. And they never saw the one of him at age eleven where two men are
sucking his hairless erection.

The only people who ever saw those photographs were Len and his boy lover
buddies who would congregate at Mark White Park where they're suck off
older boys and molest the littler ones all day.

But unbeknownst to Len, he wasn't the only one under that roof who was
fiddling with Jock.

His bachelor uncle, a man in his late 50s named William, lived with Jock
and his family. And when everyone else would be out at school or work, he'd
have Jock play with his penis in front of him as he's masturbate. When he'd
cum, he'd shoot it all over the boy's face and mouth. And then tell him to
clean himself off.

In that sense, he was using his school-aged nephew as a form of living porn
material.

And then there was Jock's own father. He was in his early fifties and Jock
was a surprise.

While his other children were in their late teens and early twenties, Jock
was just entering kindergarten.

And that was when Jock's dad was laid off. It was the Depression and a lot
of men were out of work. And a lot of them turned to drink.

And a lot of them also turned to sex as a way to pass the days and ease the
tensions.

And Jock's dad turned to him.

He'd let Jock crawl into bed with him when his mother would be in the back
yard hanging out clothes to dry. And in bed, he'd show his big, uncut Irish
meat to his little son.

He didn't force anything but he also didn't stop Jock when he'd lean over
to taste the clear juice dribbling out of his father's penis.

And so, for many years, all three men in the household were turning to or
using Jock for sex.

But being a shy little boy, and mortified to speak aloud about sex, let
alone, that kind of stuff, Jock never said a word to anyone. He never even
told any of the three about either of the other two.

And then it all became an even bigger, deeper, darker, buried secret which
Jock was to keep for many decades because within the course of only two
years, all three men were dead.

Len got into a mysterious bar fight at a corner tavern several miles from
their neighborhood. Someone cut his throat with a beer bottle.

It was such a violent, drunken event that no one ever asked many questions.
And Len's name was rarely ever again mentioned.

Jock's uncle then died of a heart attack.

And a few month's later, Jock's own dad died of what seemed to be a chest
cold that turned to pneumonia.

By the age of twelve, Jock was living in a household of women.

Because his sisters were all so much older, it was like he had four mothers
rather than just one.

And they all continued to live under the same roof because money was tight
and WWII had taken their beaus away.

Jock was a lonely boy but found refuge in studies and daydreaming about
seeing Hampton Court or maybe the Vatican one day.

He knew it was wrong to like sex with other boys and men.

So he knew to simply keep it secret. He never told anyone what he would
really be doing every afternoon in the summer when he'd spend hours at Mark
White Park.

There, in the big, working class city park, he'd let men feel him up and
put their hands down the back of his trousers so they could finger fuck
him.

In the extraordinarily large tiled restroom there he'd spend all morning in
there getting his dick sucked or sucking the cocks of the different men who
would come in.

Although it seemed a fairly respectable park to those who didn't know
better, it was actually a meeting ground for horny boys and the men who
liked playing with them.

The lines though back then weren't quite what they are today.

In today's era of the hyper-aware soccer mom, such things don't much happen
in city parks anymore. Not to the same degree.

But back in the middle of the 20th century, there wasn't much, if any
attention, paid to the things that men and boys did in the park - or in its
men's room.

As such, some afternoons would be a veritable orgy of men getting blowjobs
from boys or showing boys how men can fuck them.

Older perverts would blow other adult men as they knew that curious little
guys would be watching. They'd make certain the boys wouldn't miss a thing,
including how the cocksucker loved drinking the white cream that came
shooting out at him.

Jock would often find himself in a stall being played with two or three
men, each taking feels of his young erection or small, smooth butt.

But Jock knew it had to all be a secret. And so, even if he were a mess as
he'd return home, he'd simply explain to his mother or sisters that he was
playing rough with the other boys in the park.

Few women back then even thought to consider that the sweaty shirt or
ripped backside of Jock's trousers came from anything but horseplay.

As his mother would stitch up the ripped waistband of her boy's under
shorts, she never in a million years thought it had come from a strange man
in the park who had pulled roughly on them as to get them down.

Once in high school, Jock quickly found other boys in his class who also
maintained his same secret. They would pretend to study in his bedroom
while instead they would 69 on the bed until interrupted by a knock on the
door and a spinster sister saying, "It's almost dinner time, Jock."

There were few options for guys in his neighborhood then. You either went
into a trade like plumbing, for which Jock had no training or interest. Or
you needed money to go onto college. Or you got a low-paying job as a clerk
at a hardware or department store.

Jock craved more. And his only option was to pursue the priesthood.

It seemed a good path for a teen in his economic situation. A luxury
college education would be free since the Diocese paid for it.

And it seemed the logical route that many of the more "intellectual" young
men in such a neighborhood would take.

And if he were a seminarian and later a Priest, no one would ever ask a
guy, who liked secretly liked cock, why it was that he wasn't married or
considering marriage.

Priesthood was (and long had been) the ideal cover for cocksuckers and even
those guys who liked man-boy play.

Jock had a love-hate relationship with seminary life. He greatly loved the
fact he was earning a Bachelor's Degree and for free. He loved the
beautiful, sprawling campus which was St. Mary of the Lake in 1950's
Mundelein, Illinois.

He even loved the fact that so many of his fellow seminarians were so
good-looking. And that every so often (and despite a "special friends"
rule) on occasion, they could get or give another seminarian a quick
blowjob while on a walk in the middle of the woods there.

Jock always felt guilty about those "occasions of sin" - but they'd repeat
often.

It was when an older Priest and gruff professor of Greek sucked him off in
a basement restroom in his sophomore year that Jock became increasingly
torn about taking vows.

On another occasion, this same Priest while playing with Jock's fine
physique and sucking him off in his cell of a dorm room, told him a secret
of Mundelein.

He told him how late-Cardinal Mundelein, who had built the large mansion on
the grounds decades earlier, purposely located it so it was a long walk
from the rest of the campus since he would conduct "parties" there in the
evenings. The parties consisted of select seminarians he would fellate.

Seminarians were hand-selected to attend those parties if they were both
good-looking and very well hung.

And it's from those seminarians that the Cardinal would select those who
would "advance" on to Rome.

Being able to move on to and continue work as a young priest after
ordination in Rome was the ultimate prize for most of the young men
attending St. Mary of the Lake.

As he sucked and licked the length of Jock's very large penis, the old
Priest invited Jock to one of those parties.

And he went. By Christmas of his sophomore year, Jock was (again, secretly)
participating in cocksucking orgies between college aged seminarians and
older Priests, Monsignors, Bishops and the sitting Cardinal. In fact, the
Cardinal, an old man a paunch, would often direct the young seminarians
into couples or positions of his liking.

It wasn't the secret homosexual sex and networking that was obviously in
place at the seminary and apparently throughout the Vatican system that
turned Jock off from continuing on to ordination. It was his inability to
learn Latin well enough to ever guarantee a slot in Rome.

And more than being a Priest, Jock had (secretly) really only wanted to go
to Rome in the first place.

He had just wanted out of his working class neighborhood - whatever that
may have meant.

And so, after receiving his degree but before ordination, Jock left the
seminary.

His mother and sisters were terribly disappointed since every Irish family
wants at least one Priest in the family.

Jock lived with them a while and got a job in a small book shop.

And it wasn't long before he swung by Mark White Park again.

And all the cocksucking, butt-fucking and cum-eating were still in full
force there.

The difference though was that Jock found himself not the little boy
anymore. Instead, he had become one of the adult men haunting the place and
taking a turn getting a blowjob from a new little kid sitting in one of the
stalls.

No longer was he the little guy letting me stick their hands into the back
of his pants. Instead, one afternoon, when he stopped and looked, he was
one of three other adults who were all group-molesting a very well-hung boy
of only thirteen or fourteen.

And that continued for the next two years. By the age of twenty-sex, Jock's
life consisted of reading classical literature, listening to classical
music and avoiding his mother and sisters as best he could in the large
apartment they shared in Bridgeport, the south side Irish neighborhood.

During the week, he'd go to his job at the collectibles book shop, spending
his lunch hour having sex in a men's room in the basement of an office
building two blocks away.

He had happened upon the tearoom on one of his forays checking out every
possible men's room within radius of his job. Ever since he'd been a horny
adolescent, he had been hooked on tearoom sex. It was easy and hot. And
inside, any combination of males might come together.

The building was a 1920's skyscraper which housed assorted, very
unglamorous businesses such as that of a cardboard manufacturer and a shoe
materials supplier.

But the basement men's room would usually be abuzz with the downtown suit
and tie crowd, all getting off during the workday.

Sometimes Jock would be the man sucking off others in his stall. But other
times, he'd be one of five or more taking turns feeding their dicks to a
hungry middle-management type.

But as the days went on and Jock reached his late-20s, his marital status
began to become, if not an issue, then certainly a topic of conversation.

Now that he was no longer going to be a Priest, his sisters would ask him
about some girl he had taken to a dance on a couple of occasions during his
high school years. "She was such a nice girl", his sister, Bernadette,
would say.

And at work, his boss would ask Jock who he was dating. And, of course,
Jock never had an answer.

Or, rather, he always had the same answer which was "Nobody right now."

But Jock was smart and knew that he couldn't get away with such a reply for
years to come.

And so he married.

At twenty-seven, Jock married a naive girl of nineteen who worked as a
receptionist in for the Insurance business which was next door to the book
shop.

He would encounter her on the street on their ways to work. In the
mornings, stopping in for coffee and a doughnut, he saw her often at the
same counter in the diner on the corner.

They got to taking. She was a pretty girl. And while vivacious, she wasn't
terribly well educated. And she didn't have much of a sense of men. Not
really.

Her Portuguese parents were very protective and their main ambition for
their daughter was that she marry.

Although such a marriage of ethnics wasn't terribly common in his Irish
neighborhood, their shared Catholicism over-rode the perceived cultural
differences.

Due to his having been a seminarian, Jock had maintained numerous contacts
in the Catholic Church. He had, in fact, continued to maintain friendships
and occasional sexual contacts with three seminarians who were now Priests.

And one of those Priests presided over their wedding.

Jock, while very discreet and almost able to set aside the fact that he had
sucked the big cock of his Priest friend on many occasions while they were
seminarians, also, secretly rather got off on that reality.

As he stood at the altar with his bride, he couldn't help but get a chuckle
out of the surreal situation of a homosexual Priest, who often broke all
vows of chastity to suck his cock, was now uniting him with a woman in a
holy sacrament.

But that was Jock. A man who was at once, and nearly equally, both sacred
and profane.

After the honeymoon during which he impregnating his new bride, Jock
returned to work and his secret forays to his favorite tearooms in the
city.

It was while his new wife was in her last trimester that Jock found himself
getting a new sense of the fun of his sexual depravity which was
unbefitting a newlywed husband and father-to-be.

When he would let men suck on his cock and especially when they would
swallow his semen, he derived a new thrill from the experience. He'd look
down at the stranger's head bobbing up and down, seeking a mouthload of his
cum. And when he'd ejaculate, Jock would be thinking, "Fuck, this man is
eating the same sperm that's made the kid in my wife's womb."

His orgasms grew more intense as he'd think about how he was shooting his
cumloads into these men while his wife sat at home, craving pancakes and
pickled herring.

Even in their intimate moments, Jock knew something had changed as he'd
look at his bride's big, swollen belly.

He knew that their child was inside, only inches on the other side of her
stretched skin. And as he prepared to jack himself off on her tits, as he
had taken to during her pregnancy, believing it important then to avoid
intercourse, an idea overcame him.

He scooted down lower on their bed and tapped is large, heavy erection
gently upon her stomach.

His bride thought it strange but being his wife, allowed him to do
it. Although a young woman, she was raised by immigrant parents who had Old
World ways about them. And a wife never rejected or turned away from
anything her husband demanded of her, especially, sexually.

But Jock's real pleasure in thwacking his erect penis against his wife's
belly would have shocked her had the idea ever come to light.

In his way, he was hoping the baby inside could feel or hear the sounds of
his thick erection through the layers of skin, fat and embryonic fluid.

It was a new concept that secretly titillated the father-to-be.

He didn't quite understand why. It was, to him, simply something more
tantalizing that focusing on his wife or any woman's body during sex.

His first son was born two months later at nine in the morning. He had been
readying to go to work when Jock realized that his wife was in labor.

As he sat in the maternity ward waiting room, for some reason, he felt
oddly turned on. He looked around to see two other fathers waiting for
their wives to deliver. He glanced at their crotches and then his own. It
turned him on knowing they had all gotten into the position they were now
in, in that waiting room, because their dicks had to squirt up
spermloads. And perhaps all on the same night nine months earlier.

His in-laws came by the hospital that morning after he had called them.

And then his mother visited later in the evening, along with his sisters
once they got out of work.

It's then that visiting hours were over. By eight o'clock, he escorted his
mother and sisters to the bus stop outside the hospital. They invited him
to join them for a late dinner but he refused, saying that he was tired.

Instead, Jock took another bus in the other direction. He went to Mark
White Park. Although it was dark, the park and its restroom remained
unlocked until midnight.

And it was on a dark evening that the men's room there could be its
busiest.

He got off the bus, a kid of about fourteen descending the steps ahead of
him.

Jock thought he had recognized the kid from somewhere. And he watched the
boy make a beeline for the men's room, he understood why. He was the
blonde-haired boy with the huge dick the men all liked to suck.

He had seen this boy on one or two occasions before this. Once, Jock had
walked into the men's room to see a large huddle of men crowding around a
stall.

Inside, they were taking turns feeling up this very young, but extremely
well-endowed boy who just stood there in front of the toilet bowl.

Jock made his way over to the huddle, looking in. He watched as one older
man and then another each took a good, long suck of the boy's out-sized
erection.

Seeing that the kid was letting anyone have a feel or a suck, Jock, then,
too, reached between two other men to cop a feel of the boy's cock. It was
a handful. As he gripped the then-13 year old's big cock at its base,
another two men reached in and grabbed it, too.

They laughed since, as the three hands gripped it, it was like what
baseball players might do with a bat.

Jock tailed the kid into the restroom. He could see that they had walked in
on a boy playing with the penis of a man near the sinks. The little boy,
not much older than eleven froze after pulling away his hand from the man's
open fly. And the man quickly turned away in an attempt to hide his very
lengthy erection.

But Jock signaled that things were cool and soon the man turned his hips
back toward the pre-teen once again. With a bit of encouragement from a nod
of Jock's head, the boy reached out once again and continued to feel the
length of man's cock, milking it some as he did.

When Jock turned, he noticed that the blond-haired young teen had
disappeared. There was only one place though to where he could have
gone. And that was into one of the eight stalls in the back of the room.

Although there was a door on each stall, it was common to see that none of
those cruising would ever close his.

Jock entered the short corridor where four stalls stood on either side. He
saw that the first one contained a middle-aged man with a heavy five
o'clock shadow, sitting on the toilet his trousers down to his workman's
boots. To his side stood another man, clearly interrupted in the midst of
getting a blowjob from the workman.

And on the other side, Jock saw the same old cocksucker who often made that
stall his home in the evenings. He had often seen the balding, gray-haired
man, who looked like anyone's grandfather, sitting there sucking off one
and then another cock that strayed into the place needing quick relief. He
had seen the man servicing a man is own age at one moment, and then, a few
minutes later, servicing a hung high schooler who dropped by before going
home after a game of basketball in the park.

When he got to the middle of the stalls, he spotted the blonde kid. He was
standing in a stall, his dungarees already unbuttoned. He stood there, his
back to a side partition, and slowly stroked his big, under-aged dick.

The man sitting directly across of him, in the opposite stall was also
masturbating. On the toilet, he sat with his legs spread wide, openly
masturbating along with the kid.

That was a common sight to see back then. Men openly and lewdly stroking
their dicks for anyone, even little ones to see. Often, the boys who would
come into that restroom would get their first, real gander at an adult
man's penis, especially when fully erect.

Or you would see men, just like that one, seated in a stall, not caring
much who might see them openly jerking off. Some would be direct as they
would show off their hard cocks to other passing to a stall or sitting in
those across from them. Some would perhaps even open their shirts to show
off their hairy torsos to their impromptu audience.

Yet other men were slyer than that. And they'd sit in a stall, their door
open (or unclosed, rather). Like any man alone at home, they'd let their
hand slip down to their fat meat and slowly begin to play with it, acting
as though no one were watching.

And it barely mattered to most of them if their voyeur were a horny old
codger or a surprised yet wide-eyed, curious tyke.

Jock stopped at the blond boy's stalls to join those watching him. Besides
himself and the man in the stall directly across, yet a third man, his
dress trousers at his calves, had gotten up out of his stall to peer around
the wall as to get a better view of the hung teen.

And the boy did what Jock had seen him do the other few times he had
encountered him there. He pulled up his shirt to expose his very smooth and
lanky young frame. The kid had great abs and skin like alabaster.

Jock wondered what this boy's parents would think if they knew where he was
at that moment. He wondered how many parents ever even considered the
thought that their young sons might be offering their bodies in public
toilets - and having sex with strangers many times their age.

It was at that moment, remembering his first child, his son had been born
only twelve hours earlier. And it was the first time that he knew that
should his son, one day, disappear for an hour every so often, he would be
a dad who would easily consider the possibility that he had perhaps gone
off somewhere to let strangers and older men feel him up in a restroom or
behind a garage off the alley behind the house.

Jock even had to laugh to himself as he had never much considered that
possibility until just that moment. But that he now had a son. A son that
very likely could one day get into all the things that these other boys and
men had been doing all these years.

He even wondered if this john at Mark White Park would still be standing by
the time his some might make the same discovered he and so many other
neighborhood boys had over the decades.

He then grimaced to himself as he recalled all the newspapers and city
plans for upcoming "urban renewal". Damn if Mayor Daley got his hands on
Mark White Park or began to tear down some of the old buildings that
offered the best, most cavernous tearooms in the city.

Again, he chuckled to himself thinking, 'They better not do away with all
these places before my son can use them one day.'

Jock stepped forward, his cock tenting his dress slacks obscenely. But he
didn't care. The kid had seen a lot of men's cocks before if the behavior
Jock had observed of him was any indication. And hell, this kid had a
bigger cock than many men twice his size or four times his age.

The blond stud but up no resistance as Jock reached over to get a handful
of his throbbing teenaged penis. The boy's arms went down to his sides
since he knew the routine. He stood there, not moving as he let the man
have his fun.

Jock stepped up closer and began to milk the boy in earnest. As he did, he
felt the kid's hand rub along his trousers. And soon the boy, with one
hand, was unzipping his suit trousers for him.

Jock reached around and pushed his hand down the back of the kid's
dungarees. His ass was as smooth as that of a baby's, as well as, it seemed
to the man anyway, not too much bigger.

Again he wondered with his handsome young teens parents might think if they
saw him at just that moment.

More importantly, he wondered what the boy's father might think if he saw
his well-hung son being felt up like that by a strange man.

That thought only got Jock hornier. He pressed his own large, hairy cock
into the kid's palm.

He then leaned forward and in one swallow deep-throated half the kid's
extraordinarily large shaft into his mouth.

That got the other two men to come closer. They pushed into the doorway of
blond boy's stall. As Jock sucked the adolescent, the other two men reached
in over him to feel up the boy's chest and to run their hands down along
his ripped six pack abdomen. The kid was clearly a little athlete. Any man
could see - and feel - that much.

As Jock would move his head to one side, one of the other men would take
the opportunity to lean in and get a suck of the boy's cock, too.

Jock, now squatting in front of the little stud, would hold the boy's
lengthy shaft at his balls and offer the cock to the other men. And each
then took his turn sucking on the fourteen-year-old's over-sized dick. Even
as the boy began to drool a sweet, thin river of precum, each man made sure
to get a taste.

It wasn't too long before the three men made the kid cum, though. But boys
that age can come, remain hard and cum again in no time flat. Hell, Jock
had seen this kid get blown half an afternoon by numerous mouth, each
getting a load before he headed home to do his home work or get the table
set for dinner.

In fact, this particular blond boy impressed several perverts in this same
restroom months earlier as his cock never even went down between suckings
and cum-squirt drainings.

"But that's youth", one gray haired man who worked for a city asphalt
company once laughed as the boy shot a third load of cum onto his jacket
which bore the name of the company.

But tonight, the kid shot only once. He ejaculated a high geyser of
kidsperm the moment one of the other two men had quickly, in one big slurp,
removed his mouth from the boy's uncircumcised cockhead.

That spontaneous motion caused the boy to ejaculate spontaneously. Even he
wasn't expecting to lose his load at that moment. The cum fountain shot up,
as high as the kid's chin and fell onto the top of Jock's head. He quickly
opened his mouth as another volley of the under-aged semen squirted into
the air.

And with subsequent squirts, the other two men reached into the stall as to
catch a thick, pearlescent wad of the boy breeder milk into the palms of
their hands.

The boy's breath was short as through slits in his eyes, he could see that
three men were acting all hungry to catch and taste loads of his sperm.

Jock gently massaged the kid's hairless nuts using just his thumb and
middle finger. He tried to help the boy pump out as much semen as his young
body could muster.

And then the boy moved aside a bit, trying to indicate that he was done.
Each of the three men made movements to get one last feel of the boy's
meaty cock, still hanging huge although quickly grown flaccid.

Jock then glanced at his wristwatch and realized it was getting late. If he
weren't home, he'd miss the ten o'clock news.

And he had to get to work in the morning since he'd taken off that day.

He even again had to remember that his wife was still in the hospital and
would be for the next few days.

And then he remembered why. His newborn son.

As he left the park and stood at the bus stop, he didn't understand
precisely why, but as a new father, he was also newly invigorated.

He couldn't help but keep thinking if maybe his own kid, when he was
fourteen, would be doing any of the things that blond boy back in that
stall had been doing.

Or what he himself was doing as a tyke.

He suddenly realized the profound daring of the actions of Len, his uncle
and especially his own father all those years ago.

It couldn't have taken any of those three men, coming to the same
conclusions and same actions, but separately, as it involved him. His own
father couldn't have even taken much time to consider the pros and cons of
such behavior.

'If a person takes some time thinking about a thing before doing it', Jock
thought to himself, 'Then, perhaps father, as well as Uncle Willy and Len,
the man who lived downstairs, had each been waiting for such an opportunity
as was he even long before he was born.'

Just like Jock was now doing with the cum of a young blond boy, someone's
son, still on is breath, while his wife sat in a maternity bed having just
delivered him his own son. A son he had barely held yet and yet had already
wondered about numerous times as he cruised a park tearoom.



END part one
misterghj@yahoo.com

more to come...

