A short one
I called in sick to work that day.
Sure, I say called in, but at the time I was living with my bosses, so calling in was more like going upstairs and saying "Hey, I'm not working today. Oh you want me to work? Oh. Well then I quit." And that would be that. And what could they really do about it?
Business was different then, the pay was less, and I think I'd only been 20 for about a week anyways.
Once the bosses left, I went out back to the "shed" my pops "built" and turned on the lights. There they were, 6 feet of silence between antagonist and protagonist (using the terms in a slightly different way, as in drums being attacked by a guitar player).
I then:
a.took apart the drums
b.carried them out to my car
c.drove to his house.
There was a cigarette break in there somewhere, maybe two. Who cares now? The damage is done.
What matters is that it was awfully cold outside (it was an early November morn), and his parents had recently gone, leaving us a one time chance to Roll. This means it was my job to supply Oak Park with a thick dose of Rock. So there I was again with the drumset.
Carefully I maneuvered all the parts into place. At least all the parts I brought with me; I don't recall taking the whole kit. It didn't take long to screw everything together, and once put together it was majestic. It was the same green Pearl set that had been everywhere and seen everything, but something about a drumset gleaming in the morning sun with the dew gazing from the grass bedeviled just...just makes my cock stiff. HARD!
To make sure things would go according to plan, I rang the doorbell. Then I knocked on his window. Twice, maybe three times. When I finally surmised that he (as well as the rest of the neighborhood) was still peacefully dreaming, I knew the Rock could contain itself no longer.
The time was nigh.
So I sat down on the throne, and I began to play. HARD!
Sure, I say called in, but at the time I was living with my bosses, so calling in was more like going upstairs and saying "Hey, I'm not working today. Oh you want me to work? Oh. Well then I quit." And that would be that. And what could they really do about it?
Business was different then, the pay was less, and I think I'd only been 20 for about a week anyways.
Once the bosses left, I went out back to the "shed" my pops "built" and turned on the lights. There they were, 6 feet of silence between antagonist and protagonist (using the terms in a slightly different way, as in drums being attacked by a guitar player).
I then:
a.took apart the drums
b.carried them out to my car
c.drove to his house.
There was a cigarette break in there somewhere, maybe two. Who cares now? The damage is done.
What matters is that it was awfully cold outside (it was an early November morn), and his parents had recently gone, leaving us a one time chance to Roll. This means it was my job to supply Oak Park with a thick dose of Rock. So there I was again with the drumset.
Carefully I maneuvered all the parts into place. At least all the parts I brought with me; I don't recall taking the whole kit. It didn't take long to screw everything together, and once put together it was majestic. It was the same green Pearl set that had been everywhere and seen everything, but something about a drumset gleaming in the morning sun with the dew gazing from the grass bedeviled just...just makes my cock stiff. HARD!
To make sure things would go according to plan, I rang the doorbell. Then I knocked on his window. Twice, maybe three times. When I finally surmised that he (as well as the rest of the neighborhood) was still peacefully dreaming, I knew the Rock could contain itself no longer.
The time was nigh.
So I sat down on the throne, and I began to play. HARD!