John Egbert sniggered on a bench. He leaned into his quarry, the man named Strider, a savvy grin on his face.
JOHN: hey.
JOHN: i rear-ended a troll once.
JOHN: as in i stuffed my cock in a sock once and bummed a troll.
JOHN: to death.
JOHN: that's what the "ended" is for.
Dave murmured, silently, remembered the taste of Cal inside of him, beating him, viciously. He still caught himself yearning, every once in a while.
Hussie wept.