“Not a beer drinker?” Gia snuck up at his shoulder. She closed in tightly on his right shoulder. She had been Avery’s counterbalance for the las...t couple of hours. One would drink and the other would upstage. She smelled too close. David tried to smile, it came way easier than he could’ve hoped.“Car driver,” He told for her the third time.“Oh, poor boy,” She pouted. She took the glass from David’s hand.“Uh, that’s,” David started but he just watched her throat bubble as she swallowed, “How was. It wasn't deep but the mud stunk bad. I ran back to my bike and rode home. Halfway home a car stopped and the man asked if I was okay and what happened. I told him what I did and wanted to get home and have a bath. Turns out he knows my mother and me,but I didn't remember him.Mr. Robertson was his name, and was a widower with grown k**s.He told me to put my bike in the trunk and get in the car. Doing as I was told, I put the bike in the trunk and climbed in the car. He said he'd bring me to. Anne was divorced, so their money was well hidden in her account. Anne and Lena had joked about black Gambian gigolos since they began with Lotto a couple of years ago. One of their single female friends went there once a year and during their "girl nights out." She usually bragged about the big African cocks she had got there. What amused her friends, was that every drink she got during the evening increased the size of her big African cocks.Gambia, a British ex colony in Africa is best known. His back was to me as I entered, and what struck my eye first was a bright red, throbbing cock, pointed straight up at the ceiling. He was sitting there looking at it, as though it were some foreign object that had just popped out of his abdomen. His facial expression showed confusion, as much as anything. I’d never thought much about sex one way or the other before then, much less boy-sex, but when I saw that hard-on of his, something in me just snapped to attention. Only later, when I thought.