Scott and I met in a bar in Oxford Street.

"Suck on my tits," said Scott. It was his thing.

His nipples were like bullets. He groaned as I sucked.

As the sun came up in Darlinghurst, Scott lit the glass pipe as I sucked his nipples.

He gently lifted my head and slid the glass pipe into my mouth, like I slid his nipples into my mouth. He flicked the lighter, I coughed on the smoke.

He slid his tits back into my mouth.