“It’s about time we got a good manager,” Tom said, his rainy blue eyes shining. “I’ll see you in a few,” he said. “I’ve got to go get ...dressed.” “I second that,” said Jamie ruefully. “I’ll be out in ten or fifteen minutes.” He gave me a peck on the cheek after Tom had gone into the locker room. “See you in a few.” Less than a minute later, three guys came in at once. I had never seen them before but they all looked similar, two of them in particular. “Hey,” said the shorter one, greeting me.. At least not as far as finding an outlet goes. Behind the nightstand on the far side of the bed where the 6 plug power strip sat, there was something that had fallen between the wall and the furniture. I tipped the stand forward and felt the drawer slide forward against my thigh as I reached down and pulled up a tube of “Anal-Ease” personal lubricant! I was studying the tube and only barely paying attention to what I was doing in setting the nightstand upright when Amanda entered the room. After a few moments of foundling and kissing and moaning, he finally pulled away and took me by the hand. Without speaking, he led me to the other side of his desk to his chair. He sat me down and stood in front of me as he took off his shoes, then pants, and then pulled out his dick through the top of his boxers. He was trimmed, which would’ve made his dick look even bigger if it weren’t already so large. It wasn’t ridiculously huge- not enough to cause discomfort, but it had girth and was. It was economical and there was an interesting cross-sections of tenants. Mr. Hoayek inhabited the first floor guest room with a private bath. He was a Syrian Maronite Catholic refugee with a storied background. On the second-floor stayed Emery McKee, an openly flamboyant, community health worker in his mid-twenties. He had been the one to connect the mentee with Mrs. Cooke. And, Wilbur Yarbrough was the resident on the very top floor. He worked as an appliance repair man. The fifty-seven.