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Threesome continues.

"

"Who's this?"

"Debbie. Is that you Darius?"

"Yeah. My bad. Can't believe this shit...we passed the fuck out."

"Well, can you guys make it, please, please, please?"

"I don't know. Let me wake Peyton up."

"Okay, he did tell you what I was looking for right?"

"I got you."

"Hope so."

"I'll get him up right away! What does it take, like, twenty minutes?"

"Not even. Jump on the turnpike. I'm right off of Admiral Young Freeway. "

"I know the street. We'll be there."

"It's just me though. Celeste left a while ago. Tell Peyton he blew his chance."

"I'll let him know that. See you."

"Hurry up."

He hung up the phone, eyed the alarm clock. HBO was still running the Real Sex marathon.

"Peyton!" He shook him up.

"Huhhhh???"

"We need to go over to Deb's crib."

"I'm sleep...not going." Peyton withdrew all senses by the television's glow. The depiction of swinging couples streaked images he was unaware of. Darius turned off the tube and left him there running his dream picture show.

He reeled the reality of real sex. Alone. Convinced and elated to have Deb devour his cock and luscious smoke in the same fervor. Nothing would change him.

Miles later, Darius pulled up to her apartment. Tapped the second screen door gently. She came to the door in an oversized, pink T-shirt, cradling a drink of rum & coke in her right hand. No make up. Still pretty in her own right. She let him in.

"Hi!"

"Hey what's up?" He followed the sounds of her flip-flops into the house, pitch black, save for the television's glow.

"Nothing much, but you look how I should be feeling. Come in... Can I get you anything?" She proceeded to light a few candles.

"Papers."

"Sorry, what about a small pipe?"

"Better."

"I'll get it. Be back." Darius watched her ass move into the corner bedroom. He paced between the set of sectional sofas.

"This is all I could find." She came back holding a small ceramic pipe with intricate colored swirls.

"It's okay. You don't need much. Got any new screens?"

"No. I don't smoke all that often. This has been sitting in my closet for three months."

"Alright, let me see your lighter." Darius removes the screen to burn the blackness into ashen gray. He reached into his shirt pocket to remove his cubed bud, once wrapped in Saran. He pulls the soft fibers apart and packs the bowl.

"Your hit first." He hands the pipe over.

"Thank you." She retrieves and draws the flame into a cherry. Smoke curls and ascends.

"That's it, hit it good." He smiled. His cock stiffened as he watched her drop back into the sofa chair. Lungs tired. Her plump thighs more exposed. She passed. He took a brief hit, passed it back and let her finish off the rest.

They lied there in stillness watching South Park. He rubbed the tip flesh of his cock. It ached. He gazed at her and without warning his vocals rose. He voiced his testosterone. "Ready to suck me off?"

She nodded yes. Dropped to all fours. His nervousness dissipated with most of his tactical senses.

She crawled a few inches around to face him on her knees. He unzipped. Cut her at the seam. He felt the brevity of cool air, waiting seconds before her lips touched his engorged cock, hungrily.

She engulfed him; popped out, stared at the glimmer her salivary coating produced and submerged her mouth again, fully down her throat. He thrust his hips to adjust the length of himself, immersed and sucked deep into her oral cavern. She restricted her cheeks and manipulated suction, ravenously sweet.

"Dayum, you are no joke."

She responded by caressing his legs. Darius sped up his strokes in double time, feeling his cock slide easily down her throat. She captured all seven plus inches of him to where she couldn't breathe. She let up for the first time, dripping from her mouth in search of air.

Salivary trails and globs coated his sack. She got right back. Sank her mouth low and offered her throat again. Slippery. She bobbed her head greedily, sensing the pulses would lead to good bursting. Her slurps echoed.

"Just keep sucking I want to give you all

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