Daniel Off His Chops
I was pretty out of it as I stumbled in through the front door. Nick had insisted on shots, after everything else we'd drunk, popped, snorted, inhaled. Then he went off with some pierced guy, just because the pierced guy said he was straight, or close to it, or some such shit. My arse, he looked “queer as” to me. But, that's Nick, always a sucker for some claim of a breeder, no matter how unlikely it was. I mean pierced guy was pretty hot and butch and the rest, if you like that sort of thing, so I guess Nick's girlie little cunt could be excused, but straight? Nah.
Daniel was in the lounge room when I got in, watching porn. It was pretty dark, no lights on just the blue light of the big screen in the darkened house.
He hardly moved at all when I stepped into the room.
"Hey?"
He had his hand down his track suit pants and was playing with himself. That much I could see.
"Daniel? bro?"
He grunted, looked at me for a millisecond, or at least, looked in my direction, then looked back at the girl on the screen getting double penetrated.
He was off his face. Actually, to say that is an understatement. He was fucked! Wasted.
"What have you been doing?"
"Meth," he mumbled. He had that meth-zombie look about him. The pipe was on the table.
"You okay?"
"Mm."
“You sure.”
“Mm.”
I walked into the room.
I stood against the fireplace and watched him, he didn't seem to care.
He was captivated with the porn. He was trying to whack off unnoticed, in his track pants, subtly and I'm sure in his mind he was. The truth of the matter, he was tugging at it quite clearly. But, his face didn't deviate from the screen, his attention didn't seem to be drawn, I'm sure, I just faded out of his conscious.
I no longer seemed to be there.
I went and sat next to him, he didn't really acknowledge it.
There was a glass pipe, a lighter, a bag of crystal, and a long silver car key, on the coffee table in front of him. The bag only had lumps of crystal, so god knows what he’d been putting in the pipe.
“You’ve been with the Bootsey Twins haven’t you?”
Then he pulled the front of his track pants down and quite openly masturbated his, sticky lubed, cock. Right there in front of me, it was beautiful and shocking all at the same time. His penis was rock hard and enjoying the stroking, from where I was sitting.
“I’ve told you to keep away from those girls.”
I pushed his hand away, or at least that is what I tried to do, though I reached over and took it in my hand.
“Euw!”
"Jesus Josh, you shouldn't be doing that." He groaned. "But, fuck it feels good."
"Put your pants on."
Daniel laughed. "Ooohhh, it feels good to be played with," said Daniel, deep and low.
Daniel lent over to the side table for some amyl.
“No!” I screamed. I heard myself. “You won’t be needing any of that. Dear God.”
“It makes you feel funny.”
“Please Daniel, if there is any inkling of the real Daniel in there, your brother is asking you to pull your pants up.”
Daniel suddenly stopped all of his seduction nonsense and he visibly pulled himself together right before my eyes.
“Yeah… Josh!... How did I get here.”
“You got here to pull your pants up.”
Daniel pulled up his pants.
“Go to bed.”
Daniel got the top button on his jeans done up, so that held everything else together.
“Take your stuff.”
“Yes, take my stuff,” said Daniel.
He picked up his keys and his wallet and his glass pipe and his meth, and his pot and his cigarettes. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I said.
Daniel staggered off to bed bashing into every wall, piece of furniture, doorway, doors. Crash, crash, crash, bang, silence.
Daniel was in the lounge room when I got in, watching porn. It was pretty dark, no lights on just the blue light of the big screen in the darkened house.
He hardly moved at all when I stepped into the room.
"Hey?"
He had his hand down his track suit pants and was playing with himself. That much I could see.
"Daniel? bro?"
He grunted, looked at me for a millisecond, or at least, looked in my direction, then looked back at the girl on the screen getting double penetrated.
He was off his face. Actually, to say that is an understatement. He was fucked! Wasted.
"What have you been doing?"
"Meth," he mumbled. He had that meth-zombie look about him. The pipe was on the table.
"You okay?"
"Mm."
“You sure.”
“Mm.”
I walked into the room.
I stood against the fireplace and watched him, he didn't seem to care.
He was captivated with the porn. He was trying to whack off unnoticed, in his track pants, subtly and I'm sure in his mind he was. The truth of the matter, he was tugging at it quite clearly. But, his face didn't deviate from the screen, his attention didn't seem to be drawn, I'm sure, I just faded out of his conscious.
I no longer seemed to be there.
I went and sat next to him, he didn't really acknowledge it.
There was a glass pipe, a lighter, a bag of crystal, and a long silver car key, on the coffee table in front of him. The bag only had lumps of crystal, so god knows what he’d been putting in the pipe.
“You’ve been with the Bootsey Twins haven’t you?”
Then he pulled the front of his track pants down and quite openly masturbated his, sticky lubed, cock. Right there in front of me, it was beautiful and shocking all at the same time. His penis was rock hard and enjoying the stroking, from where I was sitting.
“I’ve told you to keep away from those girls.”
I pushed his hand away, or at least that is what I tried to do, though I reached over and took it in my hand.
“Euw!”
"Jesus Josh, you shouldn't be doing that." He groaned. "But, fuck it feels good."
"Put your pants on."
Daniel laughed. "Ooohhh, it feels good to be played with," said Daniel, deep and low.
Daniel lent over to the side table for some amyl.
“No!” I screamed. I heard myself. “You won’t be needing any of that. Dear God.”
“It makes you feel funny.”
“Please Daniel, if there is any inkling of the real Daniel in there, your brother is asking you to pull your pants up.”
Daniel suddenly stopped all of his seduction nonsense and he visibly pulled himself together right before my eyes.
“Yeah… Josh!... How did I get here.”
“You got here to pull your pants up.”
Daniel pulled up his pants.
“Go to bed.”
Daniel got the top button on his jeans done up, so that held everything else together.
“Take your stuff.”
“Yes, take my stuff,” said Daniel.
He picked up his keys and his wallet and his glass pipe and his meth, and his pot and his cigarettes. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I said.
Daniel staggered off to bed bashing into every wall, piece of furniture, doorway, doors. Crash, crash, crash, bang, silence.
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