The sun shines in through your curtains waking you up. With a stretch a yawn and a hop you manage to get one of your legs out of bed. You groan loudly...thinking "I hate mornings!". After about ten minutes of this you manage to muster up the strength to pull yourself into an upright position. Another stretch, a big yawn and one more grumble about mornings. But you know you have to get up to check on your merchandise. Perhaps an explanation is in order. You are James Ray, also know as "Jimmy the. Foreplay was superfluous; we were being consumed in the flames of our love and our appetites of the present. Our needs were undeniable. A harsh, uncompromising vocabulary can only accommodate those few minutes. In the same time as it took to complete our dances the night before, dances that forced a common purpose both erotic and ephemeral, our carnal selves, our biologies joined absolutely and leaving nothing in emotional reserves. Gutteral sounds came unbidden to our lips and I was oblivious. More

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