Chapter 18

To Fargo’s astonishment, the semen flew over his head and splatted against the bed’s headboard. Strings of the oozing shit clung to the mahogany, and very little, if any, of the salty, thick, and glue-like liquid ran down and over the wood, proving its density. Because Fargo was blown away by Chip’s eruption, he chuckled, and said, “Nice job, showoff.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t showing off. That’s how I come all the time,” Chip stated, heaving for breath, having his chest rise and fall because he, like Fargo, was windblown, somewhat over-exerted from his play with the owner of the bed.

“Awesome work. Amazing. It’s like you were made to do what you just did,” Fargo said, glowing. He felt Chip’s weight overtop him, chest locked to chest, and the man kissed him with more potent energy. When the kiss ended, Fargo said, “You just won’t stop, will you?”

“I aim to please my man.”

“So we just met two days ago and I’m your man?”