I have options. I do. I know that. I can do this. I can open my mouth and let Decker slide his dick into it. I can suck him off. I can taste him. Make him come and swallow his load. I can do that. It’s a definite option. Let’s call it option one. I have other options too. I’m sure of it. I must. It’s just that I can’t think of any. I wrack my mind, searching every recess of a vacant lot, a tumbleweed street in a ghost town. I come up with nothing. By that rationale, going with option one seems like the only sensible thing to do.
