Flanagan finally turned to offer his hand to me, and we had a brief exchange. I tried to mumble something about admiring his career as a pitcher, but ...t came out a little garbled and, probably, sounded insincere.Hell, I really did admire his pitching career. But my mind was elsewhere. I was trying to get him to admire my pitching career -- such as it was.We all five stood around looking at each other for a long moment. "Somebody say something," I was thinking.Finally, Dewey Wainwright, lowest. "You're late," a voice spat at me with such a cold tone. "Craig?" I immediately recognized the familiar man sitting in my living room. Craig was one of my friends and lovers. Online. He was sitting on the couch, stroking his fat six inch cock and giving me a cold, sharp stare. I recognized him clearly from the descriptions he'd sent. "Well, aren't you a sight to behold offline?" he grinned, continuing his pace. "Mmm, look at that ass! You're so beau-" "Excuse me!" I cut him off sharply with. More

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