After a little peer pressure Peter has downloaded the OKCupid app and made himself a profile. Nervous? Of course he is nervous. Even virgins or guys in wheelchairs probably get messages in this thing. Is he supposed to write first? He ventures into checking other profiles, screwing up and mixing the meaning of left and right swiping a couple of ( Read more... )

It's the middle of the night and Peter has snuck out of bed ( Read more... )

"What are you gonna do? Put a bandana on me, hand me a tambourine and call me Esmeralda?"

( Smut?)

Like most nights of great experiences - sex, booze, drugs - the mornings after a full moon were a real bitch for Peter. Bare as the day when he was born, the Rom boy dragged his feet through dead leaves and dirt, his aching body shaking on this chilly walk of shame back home ( Read more... )

"C'mon, I don't charge much." Shuffling his deck, there's a certain tingle in his eyes as he looks up at you. "And how can you pass the chance? Everyone should try getting their fortune told by a gypsy at least once in their life."

So maybe he is not a dukker, a seer like his cousin. But Peter knew enough to make some coin.

( Smut?)

Turning the penis-shaped candle in his hand, Peter gives it a look before putting it back into the paper bag.

"Just running some errands."

( Smut?)

"Sheeit. Last weekend was a total blackout for me. And now these photos showed up."

( Smut?)

( Read more... )

"Hey there ( Read more... )

"I don't see why it's such a big deal."

( Smut?)