”“I hope your own evening has improved a bit too?” I asked with a smile that tried not to be too provocative.“Yes. Thank you.” Kristen smile...d and lit a fire that had been missing from my world for too long. “I’ve had a nice time. I think I’d even managed to forget about the disaster of the party,” she laughed.I had enjoyed having Kristen around and wanted to prolong the evening, so I suggested that if she wasn’t in a rush to go she might like to watch a movie with me. With a wide smile she. Following suit, I tossed my box on top. “You look a little worn out,” I observed as caught his breath. “You know it. I had to — I had to carry all this stuff all the way from campus in 105 degree heat. I'm dying.” He hopped up and headed to his bathroom, drinking directly from the faucet as I watched from outside. “You must be Nicky,” I said. Breaking his guzzle, he corrected me. “Nick. Nobody calls me Nicky, but my grandma and that asshole across the hall.” “Yeah that makes sense.” “Are you. He wore his wavy, black hair short, scorning the girlish hair styles of the mainland youth so widely copied by most of the beach boys at Waikiki, and all of the well-muscled, cookie- with-cream complexioned, two hundred pounds of his lazy, six-foot frame exuded a kind of smoldering and indolent masculine sexuality. He was so good-looking he would have been considered a "pretty boy" had he been less obviously and blatantly male. Superficially at least, he appeared to be a guileless, happy-go-. Finally he came back and stood in front of me with his hands on his hips. His cock was still hard and he looked incredibly sexy. His legs were really worked out and they were pretty hairy in contrast to his upper body. He was so fucking masculine standing there. I was ready to let him do anything. I think he sensed this. He didn’t say a word. He just picked up the paddle and moved behind me. I felt a whoosh of air followed by an incredible crack of wood against flesh. My flesh. A lightning bolt.