Chapter 117

He pictured Josh naked in there. Was his dick long? Was it thick? Was it erect?

Mopp’s own dick got harder than he could remember, and he grinned down at it. Soon, now. Soon.

He took out the candles, unwrapped them, and placed them on every flat surface, then used the book of matches the nice cashier had given him to light them. With that done, he pulled the curtains over the windows. The candles gave the room a warm, intimate feel.

Yeah, that was exactly how it should be.

He turned down the bed and set the condoms and lube on the night table. Anything else?

That was when he noticed the radio.

On this lovely morning, a little romantic music was called for. He just hoped there was a local radio station that played it.

He turned on the radio and fiddled with the dial, and son of a gun, there was Frank Sinatra, singing about the year he turned twenty-one and how it was a very good year.

Mopp guessed he was right.