| Chace Crawford and Mark Callaway - Chance meetings |
[Jul. 14th, 2009|10:40 pm] |
[Warning: suspension, flogging, clothespin zipper]
[Cross-posted to ![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif) mark_callaway
[Current - Comments welcomed and screened]
Frustrated. How is it that most of the boys around Citadel leave their sessions relaxed and on highs from endorphins that seem to last for hours? Chace isn't most boys. His sessions, except for the sparse few, seem to leave him more than just a little on edge - this last one, more than normal. His last scheduled appointment for the day is finished and Chace makes his way to the bar, grumbling to himself as he orders a vodka and Red Bull. "They pay to come here," he mumbles, "pick up a flogger like they've got an idea to use it...like to smack him upside the head with the handle, rattle that brain loose. Give him a clue." Chace has had a few accidental injuries over the short time he's actually been a Citadel House boy, but never in all this time has he actually witnessed an idiot client injuring himself with a toy.
"Thanks," he says with a quirky grin to the bartender, tips the man then finds a stool a bit farther down.
"You have got to be kidding me! Nothing til almost morning!? All right, fine. Whatever." Mark fights the urge to throw his cell phone. His flight back home had been delayed indefinately and nothing else was available. "It's the fucking summer! How can you get delayed flights?"
Taking a moment, Mark forces himself to relax. At least he was at one of the Houses instead of stuck at the airport. "Maybe rent a room, catch some sleep. Do I want a boy?" Thinking to himself, he makes his way to the bar. "A beer and two shots of Jack."
Snagging himself a bag of pretzels from behind the bar, Chace drops the money down to pay for them then tears into the bag. Comfort food - a sad, pathetic alternative for what should be at least a short time of calm for him. "How can someone injure their own self with a fuckin' toy? Do they not screen these people at all?" Still mumbling to himself, Chace laughs as the image of the man flashes into his head. The poor guy seemed so stunned that the tails had snapped back to catch him in the face. "Idiot," he chuckles out.
"Excuse me?" Mark looks over at who spoke. A House boy from the looks of it. He stares harder, something about him looking familiar. "Were you talking to me?"
Chace freezes, shocked that someone answered him, then looks around to see where the voice comes from. It's then his chin hits the bar and his stomach lands somewhere around his feet. Oh fucking hell. "Sorry, that...uhm, no. That wasn't at you." Chace never got the man's name the time he rented him, but you don't forget someone that towers over you when you're six foot yourself. "It was at the last client," he laughs out.
"Last client, huh?" Mark slams down one of the shots before looking back at the boy. "Was it...you were three months ago. But not at this House I don't think. Yeah, I remember you now. You took the pain well. Very well." He frowns, eyes going up and down. "You just had a client? How the hell you standing?"
Nodding to the man that now looms over him like a building, Chace looks up with a slight grin. "Yeah, that was me, and thanks." The next questions actually pull a full-on laugh from Chace before he takes a swig of his drink. "That's sorta my question, ya know?" He knows he shouldn't talk about one client with another, but fuck it. "Guy goes to take a flogger to me? Eight lashes in ends up hitting himself in the face with the falls." The snickering begins again; they really should have a 'Doofus of the Year Award'.
"Oh Jesus." Mark rolls his eyes. "There are times when I wonder about who they let in here.
That's why I never go into the public room. Idiots hurting themselves more then they're hurting whoever they're working on." Shaking his head, he slams back the second shot. "Hope you got another hire scheduled."
Chace gives a frustrated sigh as he takes another drink then, grimacing at the taste of the watered-down beverage, shoves it backward. "Sadly, was the last appointment for the day. Wasn't prepared for the last one of the day to leave the guy that rented me in tears, was sorta hoping that'd be my role at the end. I mean, who the hell lets a flogger come back like that?"
"It is a wonder." Mark thinks back to when he had the boy. "Your tears are not to be missed, boy. Neither are your screams. You more than made the grade that night. I kept meaning to hire you again, but I haven't gotten back to that House. When did you transfer here?"
Made the grade? The compliment brings a flush of color to Chace's face, after all it's quite a task to impress someone that looks like they could have their own zip code. "Thank you," he says, a cheeky grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, "but the sounds produced depend a lot on the one pulling them out of me." Shaking his head, he snags a pretzel from the bag, "Just a couple weeks back. I guess I hoped I'd find something here."
"Yeah, you would think here there would be some real action. Guess it's the off season for it. Boy I had..." Mark shrugs, "off night for everyone. I'll have to hit the one near home, see if any of my regulars are there. He hit himself in the face? How the fuck you even do that?"
Chace can't help but look at the man's hands, blocking the moan as he remembers the skill they hold. "Oh," he says as he takes a deep breath, "some sessions are good. Just sucks the bad ones really overshadow the good ones." The look on the guy's face brings another laugh, "I have no idea! I'm just settling in, next thing I know, the guy's crying behind me!"
"Guy like that, can just ruin a good boy. Shouldn't be anywhere near them. If you can't make the boy cry for mercy, you just plain shouldn't be there. You should be in pain right now. Afraid to move cause of how much it hurts." Mark's voice slowly turns into an almost growl. "You should be too sore from getting fucked to be sitting."
The more the man talks, the tighter Chace's muscles become until the pretzel rod in his hand snaps, sending shards spraying across the top of the bar. The sound only just barely takes away from the gasp that leaves his lips. It's just not fair, then when is life fair. He leaves a relationship where he was a boy for a very sweet guy to join Citadel and still ends up with guys renting his time that end up crying while someone like this sits beside him in the bar. "Yeah," he says a bit breathlessly, "I remember after you got me."
Mark pretends not to notice the pretzel snapping, but his eyes are even more on the boy as he drinks. "What do you remember from then?" Maybe there will be a boy tonight. He had the boy put on his preferred list after the session. He gave a brief thought to another boy he had recently, young like this one but blonde. It was good to know there were still some good boys left at Citadel. "How were you hurting?"
The brilliant crimson returns to his face as he fights to not fidget, pants suddenly tight. "Remember how well you controlled the scene, the whip you chose. And the marks you left on me." The pants are no longer simply 'just tight', they're becoming painful and Chace is quickly growing to wish he'd put on sweats instead of tight jeans. He may not be in scene but there's just something about this one, and his eyes lower slightly. "You know how to deal out beautiful pain and, if I may say," he grins, eyes darting to the man's groin, "endowed enough to do just that."
"That part was just luck, boy. The rest," a hand jerks out and grabs the boy by his hair, "is earned." Mark pulls the boy closer, free hand groping him through the pants. "That and you make people want to hurt you. Want to see tears running down your face. Put you through your paces. Make you hurt. You should have a collar on, lead you around by it." The hand comes up, finger sliding over the boy's neck. "Next time I'll have to use one."
"Unghfuck!" The grunt leaves him in a hard breath as the man's fingers find his hair and he's drawn closer. If his pants weren't tight before, they are now and Chace's foot begins a mad cadence against the floor as the man's words and touch wash over him like a tidal wave, dragging him down - he goes willingly. The hand at his throat causes his breath to stop, just for a moment, as he stares upward into his heaven. "Would be more than willing to be on a leash for you...give you my tears."
"When is your next appointment tomorrow? I just-Fuck." Mark curses as he picks up his phone and reads the text. "You're kidding me." He thinks for a moment, tapping the phone on the bar. Fuck it. Why not? "You okay to go offsite? Quick run?"
Offsite - outta state - out of the country; at this point, with the man's grip tightening on him like it is, Chace would agree to damn near anything, particularly with the frustration from the previous appointment still there. "Yeah, 'm good. Uh, what do I call you?"
Mark catches the boy in a brutal kiss. "You're not going to have time for words, boy. I'm hiring you for a day. Vince just offered me the company plane, and you don't refuse that offer. Make whatever arrangements you have to. Here's my card. You got ten minutes."
Ten minutes? The man wouldn't turn down the use of a plane and there's no way in hell Chace is turning down whatever sort of night the guy's offering. He doesn't take the card but, with a grin, stands and walks behind the bar, grabs his bag, returns, then smiles back. "Am off tomorrow. And didn't need ten minutes." He's got his phone, change of clothes and wallet in the bag - he's good to go.
Mark smiles as he dials for the Citadel car to take them to the airport. "A boy who's prepared. Always good." He snaps the phone shut and finishes the beer. "The bitch of it is, have to wait til get back home to really do anything to you. Linda and Stephanie use the plane too. But I'm sure I'll come up with something." His smile turns wicked as he grabs the boy again. "Pretty sure I have some rope in my suitcase."
Chace chuckles at the words, "Well, not so much as prepared for a plane ride as I was for hitting the gym then dinner." Women? There's going to be women on the plane? Chace knows it shouldn't matter, but it really does. The only problem is that at the mention of rope, he forgets momentarily exactly what it is he's supposed to be concerned with. "Linda and Stephanie? They're your...uhm, family?"
Mark laughs. "I've known them long enough for them to be. Nope, Linda is one of my bosses and Steph's her daughter. Not my boss yet. If it was just Vince who used it, that'd be different. But them two are special. And not even talking about Rose. The best thing Paul ever did."
Blushing slightly at the mistake, Chace nods as if he understands who the names actually are that the man rattles off; he may not know right now, but it sounds as if he's about to find out. "They let you use the plane often?" He asks then pauses, "Rope, huh? Oh, need to let 'em know where I'm headed." Chace gives a wicked little grin, "Should I be askin' off the day after tomorrow?"
"They're usually too busy using it themselves." Mark throws the money on the bar. "That might be in your best interest. I'll tell the main desk on the way out." His phone rings. "Hello? Alright, be there in a little bit." He hangs up, eyebrow raising. "You ready boy?"
Chace looks up, and up, and even farther up - just how tall is this man anyway? "I'll let 'em know when we stop at the desk to bump my day off to the next day." He listens intently as the man speaks to whoever it is on the other end of the line, then, in the blink of an eye, and just as easily, he nods as his eyes lower. "Yes Sir, ready."
Mark nods in approval as the boy's gaze falls. "That will work." He growls as he grabs the boy by the neck, bringing him closer. "I'm going to tie you tight with that rope of mine, boy. You're going to remind me of your limits and safeword. And when we get back to my place..." He gives an evil laughs and drags the boy behind him as he leaves the bar.
The yelp that leaves him as a hand the size of a dinner plate grabs him sounds more startled girl than Cit boy, but that yelp quickly turns to a moan as the words sink in and Chace's hand grips his bag strap tight enough that knuckles go white. The plane ride will be good to let the man in on limits and his safeword, as well as possibly remind himself how to breathe, and he follows behind the man as they leave, the wicked laugh still ringing in his ears.
Mark pulls his truck onto the driveway and turns it off. He can hear his dogs barking for him from inside the house. They're not going to like that he brought someone home. Good thing there's no one else for miles around, no one to be bothered with the noise. He takes a minute to just enjoy the quiet, then with a chuckle he gets out of the cab. Grabbing the bags, he stretches before turning to the boy tied spread-eagle and naked in the bed. "Now, I counted four semis telling me they enjoyed the view. Was that how many you heard?"
Chace had never expected his ride to the man's home to be such an adventure, if that's what you could call it. He's only thankful it isn't too hot or too cold and that at least the passing cars had no clue he was there, that hadn't helped the tractor-trailer rigs from blowing air horns or tooting at them as the passed by. Chace had spent the better part of the ride with his eyes closed and head turned just as far to the side as possible, only looking up as the truck stops and he hears the man exit and speak. "Yes Sir," he chokes out, "sounds right, Sir." Hell if he's going to argue!
"It is a great night for driving." He reaches down and unties one of the boy's wrists. "I have your stuff. It'll be locked in the front closet. Get yourself loose while I deal with the dogs. Want you presenting out on the front porch when I get back." With a chuckle he turns and enters the house.
His back aches from the drive, granted it's not a shabby truck by any means, but riding on one's back isn't the best way to travel, but he looks up as he's spoken to and nods. His things are going to be locked up? But that means...his wallet and ID and... "Yes Sir," he murmurs then begins to untie himself, but as the man walks off it hits Chace - front porch? "Sir? What...wait, uhm...fuck." He pushes up from the truck, peeking out just barely over the bed before making a mad dash to the porch. Oh, this isn't good, this isn't good at all - his cock, however, believes otherwise.
Mark throws the boy's bag into the closet before turning to his two dogs. He rough houses with them as he walks thru the house to let them out back. He stops off in the kitchen for a drink of water before coming back to the door. He looks down at the boy as he leans in the doorway. "You enter this place, your ass is mine however I want. Don't worry, I'll keep to your limits." He steps to one side to let the boy enter.
As the door opens, Chace jumps in his spot on the porch then looks upward as the man speaks to him. There's a very large part of him that's absolutely terrified - he remembers the intensity of this man, his power and he can't help but wonder just how that intensity will magnify with the man on his own home turf - it's the other part, however, that Chace listens to. "I'm not leaving, Sir," he says with a quiet but steady voice as he leans forward to hands and knees then crawls through the door.
Mark waits til the boy clears the doorway, then slams it shut behind him. He locks it, then wraps his arm around the boy's throat and yanks him up. "Good choice." He carries him down the hall into the last room and throws him onto the floor. "Grab those cuffs and put them on. You'll be wearing them the whole time you're here."
It's not as if struggling against the strength of the other man will do any good, but as the door's slammed behind him and he's nearly lifted off his feet by his throat, Chace can't help but struggle. "Sir, where..." before the rest of the grunted out words leave his mouth, Chace drops to the floor, landing with a harder than expected 'thud'. "Yes Sir," he pants out, one hand rubbing his ass, the other reaching for the cuffs. They don't look so bad and, with just a bit of struggle, he gets them on, straightening the padding against his skin.
Mark walks around the boy as he puts on the cuffs. The struggle on the way to the room was a good sign as far as he was concerned. Some fight in a boy made it more interesting. Boys too concerned with being 'perfect', like the last one he brought here that just hung there when he did the same thing bored him. But this one was good so far. "And one thing I promised." He walks over to a chest of drawers and takes out a collar with three rings on it. "Put that on."
Chace may be trained to be a Citadel boy, that doesn't, by any stretch, mean he's going to simply go limp, not unless the person buying his time explicitly tells him to and even then, it's a constant struggle for him. As Mark moves so does Chace, turning as he watches the man circle him and feeling very much like the prey to the approaching lion. "A collar, Sir?" Chace eyes the leather and the rings but doesn't move to take it. "Seems Sir would want to put that on me himself." Oh no, there's no cocky tone in his voice - not at all.
Mark chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he scratches his cheek. Without warning he grabs the boy and shoves him against the wall at his eye level. "I'm sorry?" His voice lowers to a growl. "I put collars on things that matter to me. Like those dogs I know you heard when we drove up. Those dogs mean something to me. You don't that much. Now, you gonna put that collar on yourself, or do I send you back, maybe with your clothes?"
"Ugh!" Chace's breath leaves him and he suddenly realizes that his feet aren't touching and it occurs to him that, no, it's definitely not a good idea to piss off the mountain of a man. Struggling against the man's hold on him, he finally goes still as he sees getting free at the moment isn't an option. "Sorry Sir, 's just that most like that...they like putting it on me." Reaching out, eyes still on Mark's face, his fingers find the collar in the man's hand. "I'll put it on, Sir. You don't need to send me back."
"You're learning, boy. There is hope for you yet." Mark lets go of the collar a second before letting go of the boy. Stepping back, he pulls his shirt off and drops it on the floor as he goes to the chest of drawers. "Now, where did I put that..." His eyes travel around the room, stopping as he sees the spreader bars. Nodding, he goes back to looking through the drawers.
"Thank you, Sir." He hopes that's a good thing, at least that's the thought in his mind until he suddenly feels his body drop and his fingers clutch at the collar. It takes him a moment to convince his fingers to work properly, but soon the collar is around his neck and he's working on getting it fastened. His eyes, however, are on the man that seems to be on the hunt for something. "Sir, uhm...it's on. Where do you want me?" Unless he's told otherwise, this wall looks very good to lean up against.
"Center of the room, on your knees. Hands behind your head, legs spread wide as they go. Leaning forward, ass up. I'll be with you," another chuckle, "soon." Mark keeps his back to the boy, but watches him on the small mirror hanging on the wall. "Eyes closed." He lays out an O-ring, clips to hook to the cuffs, some good old clothespins with a smile, and nipple clamps. Start out easy, then work up.
Well, so much for leaning up against the wall. Why can't anyone ever choose to have him just relax on the bed or something? Oh yeah, had that and left it. "Center of the room and eyes closed. A'right Sir." Feeling a bit like a strange pretzel as he gets into position, Chace pokes his ass upward as he rests on his elbows and link his fingers behind his head. Okay, he's upside down, but Chace finds out that, if he looks through his legs at just the right angle, he can try to see what the other man's up to.
"What did I say about those eyes? You must think I'm like that idiot you had last. And I didn't say anything about your elbows on the ground. Want them up and out to the sides." Mark sighs and shakes his head. A stubborn boy. Just his luck. Well, only one thing to do with that kind.
He can see me?! Fuck! Chace's eyes slam shut as his elbows, almost too quickly, move up and out and his cheek hits the floor. Note to self - go slower next time! "Sorry Sir, 'm sorry, wasn't meaning to disobey." Oh yeah, annoying the man who has his belongings is not the best thing in the world to do.
"I must not be making myself clear. It can happen, thinking ahead of how I'm speaking. Start getting ideas and such." Mark walks over to the boy, grabbing his hair and yanking his head up off the floor. "Arching your back will help. Now hold there, just like that." Letting go, he walks over the spreader bar, tapping it on the floor as he returns to the drawers.
"No Sir, you were fine, you did okay, it was just meeaahh!" Chace's head snaps up, eyes clamping tight shut to at least continue to obey that order. "Yes Sir, yes. I'll hold it." The position is more than just a bit strange and it doesn't take long before his back muscles begin to scream in protest. His breathing pauses at the sound he hears as he immediately begins to try and place the rattle of metal.
"Yes you will." Mark smiles to himself. He takes a few more things out of a drawer, letting the time drag as he watches the boy. "You can put your head down now." Another tap of the bar and Mark's behind the boy. He yanks his ankles out and attaches them to the bar. Another second and the boy's hands are locked to the collar. Standing back up, he pulls on the chain hanging from the ceiling and hooks it onto the bar. He slowly brings the boy up, not letting him hit the ground too bad.
Chace's face turns to a mask of pain as his muscles spasm from the tension it takes to hold the position he's been placed in. When Mark speaks, Chace immediately drops his head as he thanks the man - that is until his stomach hits the floor as his legs are yanked backward. More clanging and he feels himself being attached to what he now knows is a spreader bar, but it's the fact that his wrists are secured to the collar that stuns him and he catches himself just before his eyes open. "Sir? What..." Lifted?! He's lifting me? Chace struggles against the bar but finds the hold tight. "Sir, please! I'll be still, Sir...you don't have to lift me."
"This ain't about having to, boy." Mark grabs the boy by the hair again and lifts his head up. "It's about wanting to." Letting go, he locks the chain and takes up a flogger hanging on the wall. "And don't worry about trying to keep still. You're going to swing around anyway." The first blows land on the boy's thighs, the tails wrapping around his legs before they're yanked back.
Keeping still, Chace knows, wouldn't be an option for him unless the man actually chained him to a wall, and even then it would be hard to do. His mind flashes back to the last time and, though he can't see what's coming, he has no doubt that this man will pull every scream and tear out that Chace has to give. "Yes Sir, thank you. I aghhfuck!" The sting comes as such a shock that he does move then, body jerking against the pain.
Mark keeps the blows even, letting them fall wherever as the boy slowly turns. He only takes care to not let any land on the boy's face or his cock. The blows start to fall harder, reddening the boy's skin more and more. Waiting til one of the spins faces him away, Mark brings the flogger down hard between the boy's legs, stepping back so only the tips of the tails land on his cock.
Chace's cries begin to turn to moans and grunts as the flogger drives him deeper and the spinning and jerking of whatever it is holding him up seems to have more of a hypnotic sway than he could have imagined. He can feel the heat as the welts slowly begin to take form - lines tracing hip bones and muscles - and he wonders, wanting so badly to see, what he looks like. That thought leaves as the flogger's falls land, tips striking hard against the head of his cock. "Sir! AGHFUCK! Fuck...yessss..."
Two more times Mark lets the flogger land on the boy's cock before dropping it to the floor. Smiling he lets his hands run over the body in front of him, feeling the heat. Then his hand falls hard onto the boy's ass as the other swats at his cock. Now and then they move to hit open handed on the boy's back and chest before returning.
There's not a thought in his mind of using his safeword with this man but that doesn't stop the screams of pain as the flogger lands against his cock. He didn't understand why his hands were secured to the collar until the sound of the flogger hitting the floor reaches his ears and the first hit to his cock lands. Tears stream from his eyes as each blow lands but the cries and screams grow muffled as they become grunted groans and mumbled words that match each jerk and sway of his body. "Sir, please, please...hurts, ohh...please...please yesss."
Stepping away, Mark raises the chain again. Grabbing the O-ring, he forces it into the boy's mouth. With a smile he takes up the clothespins and a long black cord. "Tell me, boy. How are you regarding..." He waves the items in front of the boy's face.
The position's more than strange - the swaying of the chain making the room spin slightly - and the addition of the ring gag being forced into his mouth only seems to disorient him further for some reason. Chace stares at the items in the man's hands, trying to tip his head just enough to get a good look and, as he does, a low moan leaves him. "Yes Sir, please. Want that, please let me have that, Sir." Staring at the items, Chace knows exactly what's in the man's mind and he loves it.
Mark stands up, moving to the dresser to thread the cord through the clothespins. "Twenty should do it this time." Walking back, he attaches them one by one to the boy's thighs, ten on the inside of each. He watches as the boy reacts to the pain before unfastening his jeans and pulling his cock out. Grabbing the boy's hair, he thrusts inside the waiting mouth and fucks his face.
With his hands secured as they are, there's no way for Chace to even think about blocking the clamps - not that he would if he could - he's given himself over to this man for the time being. Thoughts flood in on him as the pain settles in and he makes up his mind that, upon return to Citadel, he's going into training for a three-stripe - this pain is what he needs. His groans deepen as each clothes pin is applied and he knows, as he sees the man's pants unzip, that swallowing is the least of his worries. A deep breath and then nothing as cock fills his throat and sounds of gurgled moans fill the room.
By rights he should draw this out, make the boy suffer. But his thoughts during the plane ride and the drive home had already worn his control down before he had even started. His hands grip the boy's waist hard enough to bruise as his head falls back. Quiet curses come from his lips as he feels his orgasm building. Breath quickening, he freezes for a split second, then grabs each end of the cord and yanks the clothespins off as he shoots down the boy's throat.
There's a mix of pre-come and saliva that coat his cheeks and forehead as the man pushes into his throat, allowing him little bursts of air with every withdrawal. Chace is beyond headspace - beyond whatever it was they taught him to feel or do in Citadel training - he's on pure instinct now, instincts that tell him to make sure, at all cost, that this man finds his pleasure. A choked groan leaves him as he screams out around Mark's cock in his throat, struggling to swallow as it feels like the flesh is being torn from the inside of his thighs.
Mark lets the cord land onto the floor, leaning for a second against the boy before falling back. He rests for a moment against the wall, regaining his composure. Taking a deep breath, he goes and lowers the boy onto the floor. "Let me know when your legs finish waking back up."
Coughing and sputtering as Mark pulls from his mouth, Chace tries desperately to swallow in the upside-down position without choking completely - gravity working against him. As he feels himself being lowered, Chace twists around to find the man who still has him bound. "Yes Sir," he chokes out, still trying to gain his breath. It's yet to occur to him that his face is coated in a thin layer of come and spit. Within moment, Chace lets out a deep cry as his feet kick out; he hates the feeling when the blood rushes back.
Mark undoes the ankles cuff and checks the boy's legs for damage before fastening them again. Finding only the expected marks, he goes into the adjoining bathroom and cleans himself off. Walking back to the boy as he pushes his cock back into his jeans and buttons them, he unhooks the wrist cuffs and takes off the collar. "Clean up. I'll get us something to eat." A small slap to the hip, then he leaves.
Chace doesn't move as Mark leaves the room to clean up, nor does he fight or struggle as the man inspects his legs and unhooks the cuffs but, at the tap to marked flesh, he jumps and looks upward. "Yes Sir, thank you." There's no way in hell he trusts his legs to stand so, crawling, he makes his way to the bathroom in slow, careful strides. Once in the room, he stares at a washcloth then opts for a very quick but thorough shower, keeping the cuffs dry as possible. It's not until he emerges, however, that he realizes he has no clothes.
Mark grabs a beer for himself and a coke for the boy before starting to make some sandwiches. After a bit he hears the boy making his way down the hall. "Hope you remembered to bring a towel, boy! No way you're sitting bare assed on my chairs!"
Looking down at his hips and the towel that's wrapped around them, Chace laughs. He'd realized something the moment he'd tried to secure the towel around him - big men have very big towels. This is evidenced by the fact the thing wraps around his slender hips nearly twice. "No Sir, I've got a towel 'round my hips." His mama would come back from the grave and smack him upside the head were he to sit on furniture butt naked with nothing under him. |
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