“GB, you want suck?” Marek said to me in a stage whisper from his laid-out position on the sofa.
How many times have I heard that one?
We had been watching a DVD, but it was boring both of us.
I looked at him and nodded then put a finger to my lips. Valentýn was in the shower getting ready to go to work. Although he’s said he doesn’t care if I . . .
Sorry, but this content is restricted to paying subscribers only.
Register here. Choose a monthly, yearly, or lifetime membership.
Then support risky writing here.