He shot up and sat and quickly looked down his naked body. Then his gaze froze on his groin area where there were definitely traces of blood. Traces o... blood? Hell! There was lots of blood! Then something dawned on him. ‘I’m not bleeding…’ ‘What the hell are you talking about? I’m looking right at it!’ ‘It’s not mine,’ he said with hard frowning eyes. ‘Oh fuck me! What the hell did I do last night?!’ Ryan tossed up hands. ‘That’s what I’d like to know!’ ‘It looks like I-I-I—holy shit!’ . “Mister Kent sir?” he asked diffidently. Looking around, making sure nobody had seen him slip out the gate while on the clock.“Yes, may I help you?” Said Clark.“Actually, I think I can help you. I am a high metal welder Mister Kent. This place ain’t safe mister, the specs call for twelve rivets on all lateral joints, they only let us use six. The welds all should be a triple bead, we being are told to use a single bead. Not safe at all I tell you.” He seemed nervous and kept swiveling his head. When he ignored her, she said more loudly. ‘Show it to me. You saw mine. Now take yours out.’ ‘What?’ ‘I’m 38 years old and I’ve seen far fewer of those than I should have. I want to see yours.’ He undid his belt, and unzipped his pants. He reached in, and the head popped out. Carol stared, and licked her lips. ‘I want to see all of it. Push your pants down.’ Joe stood up momentarily, and pushed his pants and underwear down. It was the hardest one she’d ever seen, bigger than her husband’s was,. I glanced up at the pristine lemon yellow pillow beside my rumpled one. “Fuck. Two more days until Marie’s back from Montreal with that French club thing,” I muttered at the wall. A yawn and sidelong stretch dropped my right hand into the open clothes’ hamper. A half-formed thought flashed through my sleepy brain, and I rifled through the laundry for a few seconds to discover a purple pair of the lacy Victoria’s Secret boyshorts Marie favored. I grinned, lopsidedly, then.
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