‘What’s your name boy?’ * * * ‘What’s your name boy,’ asked Lester, the rheumy-eyed husband who looked at least fifteen years older than B...ettina. Looking at the guy killing himself with booze. Matt gave his name for the second time and reminded himself to go easy on booze, not that he could afford it at present. Bettina had already told him not to accept liquor from Lester because that would be the same as stealing money from the cash box. During the evening meal Lester asked, ‘Why are you. He asked me if I enjoy when my ass is being fingered and I said yes. He then had me sit at an angle again like before, with part of my back towards the window and my crotch towards him. He then had me slide down a bit, to where now my left leg was bent on the seat behind him and the other was bent and on his legs. He had me use my jacket as a pillow to rest my head on. He had also moved a bit at an angle, to where my butt was resting on his right thigh. Under the blanket he started caressing my. I watched him carefully from my seat in the back of the coffeehouse. It was 12:17, and I should have been making my way to a 12:30 class, but instead, I was hunkered down at a booth, pretending to read the newspaper. I peered over the edge at my target, and desperately tried to convince myself I wasn’t a stalker. I didn’t know he’d come here, I reasoned. But now that he is, I might as well get a good look. I shifted the paper down to the table and fished for a pencil in my bag. As I dug through. I’m sorry I haven’t called,” I apologized. We made small talk … how’s work, what have you been doing … while I took off my coat and hat and left my shoes on the mat by his door. Without any hesitation we walked up his stairs and into his bedroom. There were never any preliminaries, never any formalities. We would just walk upstairs to his bedroom and undress. With both of us naked, we climbed onto his bed, lay down next to each other and began kissing again. Jim loved to kiss and I knew what.