During the years that I lived at Steg(a really clever portmanteau of Steve and Greg) many strange occurences happened, but one of the oddest things happened one day when I had come home from work early because I had flu. I was feeling justifiably sorry for myself half asleep in my bed. Then Steve arrived home, unaware that I was in the house as usually he returned home before me. I could not see what follows but the sounds created painted a clear picture.
I was about to be scarred for life, but not as badly as this kid.
The door slammed and feet hurried up the stairs and into his room. A belt jangled as work clothes were removed. Then the unmistakable sound of hardcore pornography. Very loud moans of pleasure mixed with a fair amount of pain ensued, then abrubtly stopped. More hurried footsteps, this time going downstairs and to the living room. The TV was turned on. The theme to 'The Simpsons' played. About 2 minutes later the belt buckle jangled again as the trousered made their ascent. Steve had finished himself off whilst enjoying the sight of Marge Simpson.
Only having three fingers makes fisting so much easier.
I waited for some time before I had the courage to venture downstairs. There was a look of pure terror on his face when he realised that he hadn't been alone for his little adventure. We gave each other a knowing look, he knew he had been busted, I knew that he knew. We never spoke a word about it.
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