Well they said he was a rebel, yeah they said he could fight. He breezed into town like a warm gust in the dead of winter. They called him Touch, Rocky Touch.
Some people said he was running from something. A whole lotta broken hearts, I guessed. Said he needed a place to lay his head down for a while. He ended up taking a space on the couch, an arrangement I reasoned wouldn't last too long. When he asked what I would accept in return for the favor, I told him square, "I wanna watch you cum."
So he turned on a porno DVD, pulled out a large, already fattened cock, and stroked it while I observed. I could tell he enjoyed tugging his thick meat. Sometimes he would slow down the jerks and shoot me a look that indicated soothing relief. I joined him as I watched, and waves of pleasure came over me too.
"Touch," I said, "I don't know what kinda rocky road you been down, but I sure do like the way you move."